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Cm/**'  pUr-M 


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NOBLE    DEEDS 


WOMAN; 


EXAMPLES 


FEMALE  COURAGE  AND  VIRTUE 


BY   ELIZABETH   STARLING. 


1  Noble  examples  excite  us  to  noble  deeds."  —  SENECA. 


BOSTON: 
PHILLIPS,   SAMPSON,   AND   COMPANY. 

1859. 


PREFACE. 


THE  pleasure  experienced  by  the  Author  in  perusing 
the  scattered  records  of  femal£  excellence  gave  rise  to 
the  idea  that  an  interesting  selection  might  be  made  Trom 
them,  and  prove  not  only  instructive  but  useful.  The 
acknowledged  superiority  of  example  over  precept  con- 
firmed this  opinion;  and  the  ensuing  narratives  have 
been  chosen  as  most  suitable  to  the  various  conditions 
and  trials  of  life. 

Woman,  —  to  whose  fostering  care  the  direction  of 
infancy  is  intrusted,  —  to  whom  manhood  is  indebted  for 
mental  recreations  and  for  consolation  in  difficulties,  — 
upon  whom  also  man,  in  declining  years,  depends  for 
solace  and  support,  —  too  often  betrays  her  incapacity  to 
fulfil  the  important  duties  she  is  called  upon  to  under- 
take. When  thus  circumstanced,  she  frequently  fails  in 
the  performance  of  a  mother's  tender  -obligations,  and 
she  not  only  loses  the  affections,  but  sinks  in  the  estima- 
tion, of  her  husband  ;  —  or,  immersed  in  the  dissipations 
of  society,  she  neglects  to  attend  to  those  more  sacred 
offices  on  which  even  her  own  happiness  depends.  To 


2051214 


Xvi  PREFACE. 

the  just  fulfilment  of  these,  it  is  necessary  she  should 
think,  feel,  and  act  correctly ;  yet  this  cannot  be  expected, 
while  the  ornamental  accomplishments,  now  cultivated 
with  so  much  care,  are  allowed  to  supersede  the  more 
valuable  acquirements.  Painting,  music,  and  dancing, 
may  afford  agreeable  recreation,  but  they  must  ever 
yield  to  the  more  important  pursuits  of  life :  the  strict 
observance  of  the  duties  imposed  on  mother,  daughter, 
sister,  wife,  and  friend,  commands  the  esteem  and  respect 
of  others,  and  confers  listing  happiness  on  ourselves. 
In  th'e  discharge  of  these,  how  delightful  to  contemplate 
the  examples  of  a  Cornelia,  a  Lady  Russel,  and  an 
Elizabeth  Cazotte ! 

The  performance  of  the  domestic  obligations,  which 
are  more  calculated  to  court  the  esteem  of  the  few  than 
to  excite  the  admiration  of  the  many,  is  the  natural 
province  of  the  sex:  but  woman's  sphere  of  action  is 
not,  at  all  times,  to  be  so  circumscribed :  her  integrity, 
fortitude,  courage,  and  presence  of  mind,  may  frequently 
be  called  forth  by  adventitious  circumstances.  In  ex- 
iraordinary  times,  as  are  those  in  which  we  live,  she  may 
be  placed  in  situations  of  difficulty,  if  not  danger :  let 
her  then  prepare  herself  to  encounter  them,  by  studying 
the  examples  now  presented  for  her  contemplation. 
Then,  should  her  integrity  be  questioned,  she  may  imi- 
tate that  of  the  Duchess  de  Longueyille ;  —  should  afflic- 
tions overtake  her,  she  may  learn  fortitude  from  Madame 
Roland;  —  should  unexpected  dangers  await  her,  she 


PREFACE.  XV11 

may  acquire  courage  and  presence  of  mind  frpm  the 
conduct  of  Margaret  of  Anjou ,  —  and  should  the  hour 
of  trial  occur,  she  will  be  found  not  deficient  in  patri- 
otism :  her  trinkets  and  money  will  then,  like  those  of 
the  ladies  of  France  and  Rome,  be  laid  on  the  altar  of 
her  country.  Hers  will  then  be  the  NOBLE  DEEDS  OF 
WOMAN  !  by  uniting  the  sublime  virtue  of  patriotism 
with  the  exercise  of  every  domestic  and  social  duty ! 
2* 


CONTENTS. 


MATERNAL  AFFECTION. 

The  Marchioness  de  Spadara 25 

A  mother's  defence  of  her  son 26 

The  rock  of  the  Guahiba  woman 30 

^  The  child  rescued  from  an  eagle 34 

Resolution  of  a  dying  mother 34 

Affecting  family  scene 36 

»--  Maternal  affection  of  Mrs.  Gray 36 

The  Countess  of  Orlmey 38 

.-^Petition  to  the  infant  King  of  Borne 39 

Melancholy  catastrophe  ....*.... 40 

FIFIAL  AFFECTION. 

Singular  instance  of  filial  piety    ...........42 

Cimonus  saved  by  his  daughter    ....••••...43 

Condemnation  of  Servilia  ..............43 

Courage  of  Agnes  Hotot •  ....  44 

X  Margaret  Roper ...........45 

Extraordinary  filial  sacrifice  .............47 

Heroism  of  Elizabeth  Cazotte  .... 47 

Mademoiselle  de  Sombreuil ......52 

Execution  of  Madame  de  Bois  Beranger 53 

Mademoiselle  Delleglace  saves  her  father 54 

Early  instance  of  filial  piety ........56 

-The  Creole  and  his  daughter  .............  o5 

SISTERLY  AFFECTION. 

Death  of  Myro  and  her  sister 58 

Choice  of  ths  wife  of  Intaphernes ...59 


XX  CONTENTS. 

SISTERLY  AFFECTION,,  (continued.)  Pag* 

Self-devotion  of  Julia 6t> 

The  Duchess  d'Alen§on 61 

Maria  Helena  Elizabeth • 63 

Noble  sacrifice  of  a  sister-in-law 64 

Liberation  of  a  prisoner 65 

/  Heroic    conduct  of  Helen  Walker,  immortalized  as 

Jeanie  Deans 66 

Bety  Ambos  Von  Zweibrucken 69 

CONJUGAL  AFFECTION. 

Struggle  between  conjugal  and  filial  IOTC 90 

Magnanimous  reply  of  Thesta 92 

Women  who  have  become  voluntary  exiles 93 

Turia  conceals  her  husband,  Lucretius 94 

The  Duchess  of  Bavaria 94 

Self-devotion  of  Queen  Eleanor 96 

Gertrude  Von  der  Wart 96 

Courage  and  fidelity  of  Bon  a  Longabarba 101 

Conjugal  affection  of  a  Venetian  lady     102 

Courage  of  the  Duchess  d'Epernon  .  .  .  • 103 

Eleanor  Christina  of  Denmark  ...........  105 

Conjugal  affection  of  Lady  Raleigh 106 

Sir  Richard  and  Lady  Fanshawe 107 

Colonel  and  Mrs.  Hutch inson 115 

Lady  Rachel  Russel 133 

'  The  first  wife  of  Milton 135 

Lady  Nithsdale  saves  her  husband's  life 136 

A  companion  in  adversity 150 

Magnanimity  of  Catherine  Herman 151 

Noble  proof  of  attachment . 153 

Lady  Harriet  Ackland 156 

A  singular  divorce 158 

Constancy  of  Madame  Lavergne 159 

A  husband  saved  by  his  wife 164 

Madame  Le  Fort 165 

Amusing  expedient  of  affection 166 

Conjugal  heroism  of  Madame  Lavalette  .....       .  167 

The  Countess  Confalioneri 171 


CONTENTS.  "SCSI 

HUMANITY.  pagt 

Humane  propositior  of  Gambaruk  Ruddering   ....  174 

Benevolent  action  of  Queen  Blanche 175 

Constantia  of  Arragon 176 

Philippa  of  Hainault 177 

Noble  conduct  of  Queen  Isabella  of  Spain 179 

Humanity  of  Catherine  the  First 180 

The  Empress  Maria  Theresa 181 

Humane  behavior  of  some  female  convicts 183  ^ 

Humanity  of  a  negress 184 

The  Heroine  of  Matagorda 185 

Remarkable  presence  of  mind 187 

Admirable  conduct  of  the  ladies  of  America 188 

Self-devotion  of  Claudine  Potocka 190 

Instinctive  courage  of  Grace  Darling 191 

INTEGRITY. 

The  Duchess  de  Longueville 205 

A  mother  asks  the  life  of  her  son 206 

Integrity  of  Mrs.  Bendysh 207 

Honesty  of  a  poor  widow *....  208 

Extraordinary  adherence  to  principle 209 

The  reward  of  upright  conduct 210 

Remarkable  example  of  integrity 211 

How  to  get  rich 212 

BENEVOLENCE. 

Elizabetha,  Princess  of  Hungary 214 

Excellent  example  of  Anne  Boleyn 215 

Charities  of  Lady  Burleigh 216 

Excellent  traits  recorded  of  Lady  Apsley 219 

Benevolence  of  the  Countess  of  Pembroke 221 

Nell  Gwyune's  bounty 224 

Goodness  of  Mrs.  Rowe  to  the  poor  . 225 

Generous  action  of  Mrs.  Porter 227 

Noble  example  of  a  Russian  princess 228 

Beneficence  of  the  Princess  of  Wales 230 

The  wife  of  the  philanthropic  Howard 233 

Generosity  of  the  Empress  Catherine .234 

Encouragement  to  literature 235 


XTII  CONTENTS. 

BENEVOLENCE,  (continued.)  Page 

Benevolent  servant-maid 236 

Extensive  benevolence  of  Lady  Sheffield 236 

Fidelity  of  Margaret  Desmoulins 238 

Self-devotion  of  La  Blonde 239 

Donations  of  the  Countess  of  Warwick 240 

The  ladies  of  Germany  and  England 241 

Benevolent  exertions  of  Hannah  More 245 

The  reformation  of  Newgate 253 

The  Princess  Charlotte  of  Wales 258 

Amiable  characteristics  of  the  Empress  Josephine  .   .   .  263 
Universal  benevolence  of  Womau 266 

FORTITUDE. 

Heroic  conduct  of  Joanna  of  Naples 269 

Trial  and  death  of  Anne  Boleyn 275 

Execution  of  Lady  Jane  Grey 279 

Death  of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots 281 

Fortitude  of  Madame  de  Malezey 283 

A  mind  superior  to  misfortune 284 

Courage^md  fortitude  of  Madame  Roland 286 

COURAGE  AND  PRESENCE  OF  MIND. 

Telesilla  saves  the  city  of  Argos     • 292 

Heroic  conduct  of  Artemisia 293 

Heroic  enterprise  of  Cloelia 299 

Jane,  Countess  of  Montfort 301 

Noble  courage  of  Marzia 303 

Presence  of  mind  of  Queen  Margaret 306 

Instance  of  female  resolution 307 

Heroism  of  an  Indian  queen 208 

Courageous  conduct  of  the  Duchess  of  Ferrara  .   .   .   .312 

Noble  resolution  of  Constance  de  Cezelli 314 

Instances  of  female  courage  in  France 315 

A  fortress  defended  by  women 316 

Singular  adventure- of  Madame  Deshoulieies 317 

Presence  of  mind  of  Miss  Bailly 321 

Noble  trait  of  instinctive  courage 323 

Faithful  attachment  of  a  negress 324 

Unexampled  act  of  self-devotion .  324 


CONTENTS.  TTTTI 

COURAGE  AND  PRESENCE  OF  MIND,  (continued.)  Pag« 

The  Maid  of  Sarragossa 325 

A  child's  life  saved  by  its  nurse 326 

Presence  of  mind  in  a  servant-girl 327 

Narrow  escape  of  the  Queen  of  Prussia 328 

Humane  act  of  the  Hon.  Miss  Eden 329 

The  miller's  maid 330 

HOSPITALITY. 

Treacherous  reward  of  hospitality 337 

Humane  conduct  of  the  Duchess  of  Ferrara 340 

Cruel  punishment  of  Mrs.  Gaunt 341 

Generous  hospitality  of  a  poor  widow 342 

Escape  effected  by  Mrs.  Gordon 343 

Hospitality  of  a  negress 346 

Heroic  act  of  Madame  Bouquet 347 

Fidelity  of  a  domestic 351 

Madame  Paysac  put  to  death 352 

Madame  Ruvilly  and  her  sister 353 

SELF-CONTROL. 

Resolution  of  Camiola  Turinga 357 

The  royal  power  declined 358 

-  Majestic  reply  of  Queen  Elizabeth 360 

Noble  sentiments  of  a  dying  lady 361 

GRATITUDE. 

Offering  of  Elizabeth  Wilcox 362 

Gratitude  of  a  Portuguese  lady 364 

LOYALTY. 

Remarkable  instance  of  magnanimity 368 

Loyal  recognition  of  Meg  Fullarton 369 

Cruel  fate  of  the  Countess  of  Buchan 370 

A  mother  presents  her  son  to  the  king 372 

The  widow's  contribution 373 

Substantial  proof  of  loyalty 374 

Self-devotion  of  Catherine  Douglas 376 

Singular  occurrence  on  Charles  the  First's  trial  ....  376 

Charlotte,  Countess  of  Derby 377 

Defence  of  Wardour  Castle 381 


xxnr  CONTENTS. 

LOYALTY,  (continued.)  Pag* 

Fidelity  of  Lady  Morton 389 

The  regalia  saved  by  Lady  Ogilvie 393 

King  Charles  and  the  cook-maid 394 

Fidelity  of  Mrs.  Yates 394 

Devoted  loyalty  of  Mrs.  Jane  Lane 396 

Heroic  enterprise  of  Flora  Macdonald 408 

Loyalty  rewarded 421 

ELOQUENCE. 

Successful  embassy  of  Hersilia  Cornelia 425 

Hortcnsia's  address  to  the  Triumvirs 428 

Speech  of  the  Countess  of  Bertinoro  .   . 431 

Bold  reproof  of  the  Countess  of  Arundel 434 

Spirited  address  of  Queen  Elizabeth 435 

Eloquence  of  the  heart 437 

PATRIOTISM. 

Rome  saved  by  her  women 440 

Patriotism  of  Polycrita 445 

Ingenious  appeal  of  the  queen  of  Pytheus 446 

Successful  stratagem  of  Philotis 448 

Joan  of  Arc  saves  her  country 449 

Courage  of  Manilla 455 

Catherina,  surnamed  "  the  Heroic  " 456 

Generous  sacrifice  of  a  Silesian  girl .........  458 

Patriotism  of  Mrs.  Colbioernsen    ..........  459 

Mademoiselle  de  la  Roche ibucault 461 

Female  EHrtyis  of  Switzerland .  46i 


MATERNAL    AFFECTION. 


THE  M  ABCHIONESS  DE  SPADARA. THE  MOTHER  OF  A  FRENCH  SOLDIE*. 

THE    ROCK    OF  *THE  MOTHER. THE    GOLDEN   EAGLE. A    STO- 
RY   OF    THE    PLAGUE. MRS.    FREEMANTLE. MRS.    GRAY. THK 

COUNTESS    OF  ORKNEY. FRENCH  WIDOW. MELANCHOLY  CATAS 

TROPHE. 


"  A  mother's  love  ' 
If  there  be  one  thing  pure, 
Where  all  beside  is  sullied  ; 

That  can  endure 
When  all  else  pass  away  : 

If  there  be  aught 
Surpassing  human  deed,  or  word,  or  thought,  — 

It  is  a  mother's  love !" 

MATERNAL  Affection  has  displayed  itself  in  a  thousand 
interesting  forms,  differing  from  each  other  according  to 
the  various  circumstances  which  have  occasioned  them : 
&11  alike  prove  how  deep  and  endearing  is  that  sacred  tie 
which  binds  a  mother  to  her  offspring,  to  purchase  whose 
safety  she  has  often  been  content  to  make  the  greatest 
sacrifices,  esteeming  life  itself  of  trivial  value  when  held 
in  comparison  with  the  welfare  of  such  beloved  objects. 


DEATH   OF   THE   MARCHIONESS   DE   SPADARA. 

"  Her  pure  and  holy  spirit  now 
Doth  intercede  at  the  eternal  throne  !"  —  L.  E.  L. 

THE  Marchioness  de  Spadara  was  at  Messina  during 
the  dreadful  earthquake  which  happened  in  Sicily,  in 
3 


26  MATERNAL   AFFECTION. 

1782.  Fainting  from  alarm,  at  its  commen  cement,  she 
was  conveyed  by  her  husband  to  the  fort,  while  he  pre- 
pared a  boat  for  their  departure.  While  he  was  absent 
his  wife  recovered  her  senses,  when  she  found  that  her 
infant  son  was  left  behind :  she  ran  in  the  utmost  haste 
to  her  house,  which  was  still  standing,  and  proceeding 
to  the  room  where  the  child  lay,  snatched  it  up  from  the 
cradle.  Overwhelmed  with  joy,  she  was  about  to  return, 
when  she  found  that  the  staircase  had  fallen.  She  then 
ran  from  one  part  of  the  house  to  another,  searching  in 
vain  for  some  means  of  escape,  till  the  whole  building 
was  destroyed,  except  a  balcony,  to  which  she  flew,  and 
with  her  infant  son  in  her  arms,  implored  assistance  from 
the  multitude  :  no  one,  however,  came  to  her  relief,  and 
the  remainder  of  the  building  fell,  burying  the  tender 
mother  and  her  child  in  the  ruins. 


A  MOTHER'S  DEFENCE   OF  HER  SON. 

"  My  son  !  my  son !  I  cannot  speak  the  rest  — 
Ye  who  have  sons  can  only  know  my  fondness  ! 
Ye  who  have  lost  them,  or  who  fear  to  lose, 
Can  only  know  my  pangs !  none  else  can  guess  them  ; 
A  mother's  sorrows  cannot  be  conceived 
But  by  a  mother!  "  NILS.  HANNAH  MORE. 

A  FRENCHWOMAN,  during  the  Vendean  war,  was  ac 
companying  her  only  son  to  Nantes,  and  was  in  much 
alarm  lest  their  little  escort  should  be  attacked  by  the 
insurgents ;  in  which  case  she  could  not  hope  for  any 
assistance  from  her  son,  who  had  been  lingering  for  some 
time  in  the  military  hospital,  owing  to  his  severe  wounds 
received  in  several  actions,  and  was  still  very  feeble. 
Her  chief  reliance  was  on  the  courage  of  a  faithful 
domestic,  and  the  confidence  she  felt  in  her  own  firm- 


MATERNAL     AFFECTION.  27 

ness,  being  resolved  to  defend  his  life  in  every  extremity. 
She  was  congratulating  herself  on  having  nearly  reached 
some  posts  of  the  republican  army,  beyond  which  she 
might  proceed  in  safety,  when,  on  coming  out  of  a  wood, 
she  heard  several  musket-shots  fired,  and  perceived  that 
the  balls  were  flying  round  her  carriage ;  she  prepared 
to  use  the  pistols  with  which  she  had  provided  herself, 
but  in  another  moment  the  carriage  was  surrounded  by 
several  men  on  horseback,  one  of  whom,  with  some  civil- 
ity, requested  her  to  alight. 

"  I  cannot  alight,"  she  answered;  "  I. have  beside  me  a 
young  man  who  is  dying,  and  who  is  committed  to  my 
care  ;  I  beseech  you  to  respect  his  situation,  and  to  for- 
bear to  disturb  his  repose."  "  Most  willingly,"  answered 
the  chief  of  the  party,  "  on  condition  that  you  tell  us 
who  the  young  man  is."  "  My  own  son."  Unhappily 
the  mother  pronounced  these  last  words  with  a  tone  so 
tremulous,  and  an  air  of  such  embarrassment,  that  the 
suspicions  of  the  rebels  were  excited,  and  their  chief 
instantly  ordered  her  to  quit  the  carriage,  on  pain  of 
being  shot,  together  with  the  young  man  for  whose  safety 
she  was  so  anxious. 

This  menace  restored  the  generous  woman  to  all  her 
courage.  Covering  her  son  with  her  body,  she  calmly 
counted  the  number  of  the  enemy.  "  They  are  but 
nine,"  she  cried  to  her  faithful  domestic,  who  was  in  the 
carriage  with  her;  "let  us  defend  ourselves."  While 
she  said  this,  she  began  a  combat  too  unequal  to  promise 
her  any  success.  Her  steady  hand  laid  two  men  in  the 
dust;  but  almost  instantly  her  faithful  domestic  was 
killed  by  her  side,  the  horses  and  the  postilion  were  shot, 
and  in  another  m  iment  her  son  was  dangerously  wounded 
on  the  head. 


28  MATERNAL    AFFECTION. 

The  mother  was  now  funous  at  the  sight  of  her  bleed 
ing  son :  seizing  his  sabre,  which  lay  beside  him,  she 
sprang  from  the  carriage,  and,  uttering  a  cry  of  despair, 
threw  herself  among  the  assailants.  The  rebels  easily 
surrounded  and  disarmed  her,  when  they  tied  her  to  a 
tree ;  afterwards,  tearing  the  son  from  the  carriage,  they 
dragged  him  to  a  spot  near  his  mother,  and  prepared  to 
shoot  him  before  her  eyes.  Enraged  with  the  resistance 
of  the  courageous  mother,  they  resolved  to  increase  her 
torture,  by  lengthening  out  the  spectacle  of  her  son's 
wretched  situation,  extended,  as  he  was,  in  the  dust,  and 
weltering  in  his  blood :  fortunately,  this  resolution  saved 
both  the  parent  and  child.  The  report  of  muskets  had 
been  heard  at  the  nearest  post  of  the  republican  army, 
from  which  a  detachment  of  fifty  horse  immediately  pro- 
ceeded to  the  spot.  Attracted  by  the  cries  of  the  unhappy 
mother,  they  burst  in  upon  the  rebels  at  full  gallop,  and 
so  completely  surprised  therfl,  that  they  put  them  to  the 
sword  with  little  resistance. 

This  sudden  change  of  fortune  quite  overcame  the 
mother,  who  was  senseless  when  approached  by  her  own 
party.  By  the  orders  of  the  commanding  officer,  she  was 
taken  from  the  tree  and  placed  in  her  own  carriage,  to 
which  two  of  the  troopers  harnessed  their  horses  ;  in  this 
manner  she  was  conveyed  to  the  republican  post. 

Being  at  length  restored  to  her  senses,  her  first  inquiry 
was  after  her  son.  What  was  her  horror  on  discovering 
that  not  one  of  the  republican  party  had  seen  anything 
of  the  young  man !  She  immediately  perceived  the  mis- 
take they  had  made  ;  the  republicans,  *having  fired  as 
they  rode  up,  had  taken  her  son  to  be  one  of  the  enemy's 
slain.  She  supplicated  them  to  return  immediately  with 
her  to  save  him  :  "  My  son,"  she  cried,  "  breathes  still, 


MATERNAL   AFFECTION.  29 

h;  is  worthy  of  your  care,  and  allied  to  you  in  principles 
and  courage ;  like  you,  he  has  shed  his  blood  for  the 
republic.  Ah  !  who  knows  if  another  party  of  the  rebels 
may  not  be  even  now  on  their  way  to ?  " 

Her  friends  heard  not  another  word  ;  they  interrupted 
her,  to  return  with  her  to  the  place  of  action.  As 
they  drew  near,  some  of  the  troopers  who  advanced 
before  the  rest  perceived  a  man,  having  his  head  bound 
round  with  a  handkerchief  steeped  in  blood,  endeavoring 
to  shun  them.  It  was  the  object  of  their  search,  who, 
having  recovered  his  senses,  was  trying  to  effect  an 
escape  from  a  scene  of  so  many  horrors.  The  advanced 
guard,  judging  from  his  wounded  appearance  that  he  was 
one  of  the  rebels  who  had  survived,  ran  towards  him, 
and  disregarding  his  prayers  and  cries,  slew  him,  as  they 
thought,  with  their  sabres,  and  threw  him  into  a  ditch. 
The  main  body  of  the  party  arriving  just  after  this  had 
happened,  the  carriage  of  the  mother  passed  close  to  the 
body  of  her  son,  for  v/hom  she  had  risked  so  much  ;  and 
instantly  recognizing  him  whom  she  so  tenderly  loved, 
she  uttered  a  shriek,  and  threw  herself  upon  the  wounded 
and  disfigured  body. 

Exhausted  by  so  many  vicissitudes,  both  the  mother 
and  son  were  carried  to  the  republican  post,  their  new 
friends  uncertain  whether  they  were  dead  or  alive.  The 
young  man,  however,  had  the  singular  good  fortune  to 
survive  that  eventful  day,  and  the  courageous,  devoted 
mother  finally  succeeded  in  conveying  him  safely  to 
Nantes,  where,  by  her  tenderness  and  care,  he  was  at 
»ength  restored  to  perfect  health. 


30  MATERNAL     AFFECTION. 


THE   ROCK   OF  THE    GUAHIBA    WOMAN. 

"  I  am  their  mother,  — nJio  shall  bar  me  from  them  ? " 

SHAKSPEARE. 

HTTNBOLDT,  in  his  Travels  to  the  Equinoctial  Regions 
of  the  New  Continent,  relates  a  touching  example  of 
maternal  affection. 

Near  the  confluence  of  the  Atabapo  and  the  Rio  Jerni, 
there  is  a  granite  hummock  that  rises  on  the  western 
bank,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Guaosiau ;  it  is  called  the 
Rock  of  the  Guahiba  Woman,  or  the  Rock  of  the  Mother, 
(Piedra  de  la  Madre,)  from  the  trait  of  maternal  affec- 
tion attached  to  it. 

"  If,"  says  the  enterprising  Humboldt,  "  in  these  soli- 
tary scenes  man  scarcely  leaves  behind  him  any  traces 
of  his  existence,  it  is  doubly  humiliating  for  a  European 
to  see  perpetuated  by  the  name  of  a  rock,  by  one  of  those 
imperishable  monuments  of  nature,  the  remembrance  of 
the  moral  degradation  of  our  species,  and  the  contrast 
between  the  virtue  of  a  savage  and  the  barbarism  of 
civilized  man. 

"  In  1797,  the  missionary  of  San  Fernando  had  led 
his  Indians  to  the  mouth  of  the  Rio  Guaviare,  on  one  of 
those  hostile  incursions  which  are  prohibited  alike  by 
religion  and  the  Spanish  laws.  They  found,  in  an  Italian 
hut,  a  Guahiba  mofher  with  three  children,  two  of  whom 
were  still  infants.  They  were  occupied  in  preparing  the 
flour  of  Cassava.  Resistance  was  impossible ;  the 
father  was  gone  to  fish,  and  the  mother  tried  in  vain  t6 
flee  with  her  children.  Scarcely  had  she  reached  the 
savanna,  when  she  was  seized  by  the  Indians  of  the 
mission,  who  go  to  hunt  men,  like  the  whites  and  the 
negroes  in  Africa.  The  mother  and  hei  children  were 


MATERNAL    AFFECTION.  3l 

found,  and  dragged  to  the  bank  of  the  river.  The  monk 
seated  in  his  boat,  waited  the  issue  of  an  expedition  of 
which  he  partook  not  the  danger.  Had  the  mother  made 
too  violent  a  resistance,  the  Indians  would  have  killed 
her,  for  everything  is  permitted  when  they  go  to  the 
conquest  of  souls,  (a  la  conquista  espiritual.)  and  it  is 
children  in  particular  they  seek  to  capture,  in  order  to 
treat  them,  in  the  mission,  as  poitos,  or  slaves  of  the 
Christians.  The  prisoners  were  carried  to  San  Fer- 
nando, in  the  hope  that  the  mother  would  be  unable  to 
find  her  way  back  to  her  home  by  land.  Far  from  those 
children  who  had  accompanied  their,  father  on  the  day 
on  which  she  had  been  carried  off,  this  unhappy  woman 
showed  signs  of  the  deepest  despair.  She  attempted  to 
take  back  to  her  family  the  children  who  had  been 
snatched  away  by  the  missionary,  and  fled  with  them 
repeatedly  from  the  village  of  San  Fernando ;  but  the 
Indians  never  failed  to  seize  her  anew ;  and  the  mission- 
ary, after  having  caused  her  to  be  mercilessly  beaten, 
took  the  cruel  resolution  of  separating  the  mother  from 
the  two  children  who  had  been  carried  off  with  her. 
She  was  conveyed  alone  toward  the  missions  of  the  Rio 
Negro,  going  up  to  the  Atabapo.  Slightly  bound,  she 
was  seated  at  the  bow  of  the  boat,  ignorant  of  the  fate 
-  that  awaited  her ;  but  she  judged,  by  the  direction  of  the 
sun,  that  she  was  removed  further  and  further  from  her 
hut  and  her  native  country.  She  succeeded  .in  breaking 
her  bonds,  threw  herself  into  the  water,  and  swam  to  the 
left  bank  of  the  Atabapo.  The  current  carried  her  to  a 
shelf  of  rock,  which  bears  her  name  to  this  day.  She 
landed,  and  took  shelter  in  the  woods';  but  the  president 
of  the  missions  ordered  the  Indians  to  row  to  the  shore 
and  follow  the  traces  of  the  Guahiba.  In  the  evening 


MATERNAL   AFFECTION. 


she  was  brought  back.  Stretched  upon  the  rock,  la 
Piedra  de  la  Madre,  a  cruel  punishment  was  inflicted  on 
her  with  those  straps  of  manatee  leather  which  serve 
for  whips  in  that  country,  and  with  which  the  alcades 
are  always  furnished.  This  unhappy  woman,  her  hands 
tied  behind  her  back  with  strong  stalks  of  mavacure,  was 
then  dragged  to  the  mission  of  Javita. 

"  She  was  there  thrown  into  one  of  the  caravanseras, 
that  are  called  Casa  del  Rey.  It  was  the  rainy  season, 
and  the  night  was  profoundly  dark.  Forests,  till  then 
believed  to  be  impenetrable,  separated  the  mission  of 
Javita  from  that  of  San  Fernando,  which  was  twenty-five 
leagues  distant,  in  a  straight  line.  No  other  part  is 
known  than  that  of  the  rivers ;  no  man  ever  attempted 
to  go  by  land  from  one  village  to  another,  were  they 
only  a  few  leagues  apart.  But  such  difficulties  do  not 
stop  a  mother  who  is  separated  from  her  children.  Her 
children  are  at  San  Fernando  de  Atabapo ;  she  must  fina 
them  again ;  she  must  execute  her  project  of  delivering 
them  from  the  hands  of  the  Christians,  of  bringing  them 
back  to  their  father  on  the  banks  of  the  Guaviare.  The 
Guahiba  was  carelessly  guarded  in  the  caravansera. 
Her  arms  being  wounded,  the  Indians  of  Javita  had 
loosened  her  bonds,  unknown  to  the  missionary  and  the 
alcades.  She  succeeded,  by  the  help  of  her  teeth,  in 
breaking  them  entirely;  disappeared  during  the  night; 
and  at  the  fourth  rising  sun  was  seen  at  the  mission 
of  San  Fernando,  hovering  around  the  hut  where 
her  children  were  confined.  '  What  the  woman  per- 
formed,' added  the  missionary,  who  gave  us  this  sad 
narrative,  '  the  most  robust  Indian  would  not  have  ven- 
tured to  undertake.  She  traversed  the  woods  at  a  sea- 
son w^en  the  "<ky  is  constantly  covered  with  clouds,  and 


MATERNAL   AFFECTION.  33 

the  sun,  during  -whole  days,  appears  but  for  a  few 
minutes.  Did  the  course  of  the  waters  direct  her  way  ? 
The  inundations  of  the  rivers  forced  her  to  go  far  from 
the  banks  of  the  main  stream,  through  the  midst  of 
woods,  where  the  movement  of  the  water  is  almost  im- 
perceptible. How  often  must  she  have  been  stopped  by 
the  thorny  lianas,  that  form  a  network  around  the  trunks 
they  entwine  ?  How  often  must  she  have  swam  across 
the  rivulets  that  run  into  the  Atabapo  ? '  This  unfortu- 
nate woman  was  asked  how  she  had  sustained  herself 
during  the  four  days  ?  She  said,  '  that,  exhausted  with 
fatigue,  she  could  find  no  other  nourishment  than  those 
great  black  ants,  called  vachacos,  which  climb  the  trees 
in  long  bands,  to  suspend  on  them  their  resinous  nests.' 
We  pressed  the  missionary  to  tell  us  whether  the  Gua- 
hiba  had  peacefully  enjoyed  the  happiness  of  remaining 
with  her  children ;  and  if  any  repentance  had  followed 
this  excess  of  cruelty.  He  would  not  satisfy  our  curi- 
osity ;  but,  at  our  return  from  the  Rio  Negro,  we  learnt 
that  the  Indian  mother  was  not  allowed  time  to  cure  her 
wounds ;  but  was  again  separated  from  her  children,  and 
sent  to  one  of  the  missions  of  the  Upper  Oroonoko. 
There  she  died,  refusing  all  kind  of  nourishment,  as  the 
savages  do  in  great  calamities. 

"  Such  is  the  remembrance  annexed  to  this  fatal  rock 
to  Piedra  de  la  Madre." 


34  MATERNAL   AFFECTION. 

THE   CHILD  RESCUED  FROM  AN  EAGLE. 

"  Oh !  love  me,  love  me,  little  boy! 
Thou  art  thy  mother's  only  joy  ; 
And  do  not  dread  the  waves  below, 
"When  o'er  the  sea-rock's  edge  we  go ; 

The  high  crag  cannot  work  me  harm, 
Nor  leaping  torrents  when  they  howl ; 

The  babe  I  carry  on  my  arm, 
He  saves  for  me,  my  precious  soul : 
Then  happy  lie,  for  blest  am  I,  — 
Without  me,  my  sweet  babe  would  die." 

WORDSWORTH. 

WHAT  obstacles  will  not  a  mother  surmount,  what 
dangers  will  she  not  brave  and  overcome,  for  the  sake  of 
her  defenceless  offspring ! 

A  child  at  Tinkaleen,  in  the  Feroe  Islands,  being  car- 
ried off  by  the  great  golden  eagle,  its  mother  climbed 
the  hitherto  unascended  precipice,  to  rescue  her  babe. 
She  succeeded  in  reaching  the  nest,  but  unhappily  arrived 
too  late,  for  the  innocent  object  of  her  search  was  dead. 

Another  case  of  a  similar  nature  occurred  in  the  Ork- 
neys, which  was  more  fortunate  in  its  termination :  the 
mother  had  the  inexpressible  happiness  of  rescuing  her 
child  from  the  dreadful  death  which  awaited  it. 


RESOLUTION  OF  A  DYING  MOTHER. 

"  Holy  and  pure 

Is  thy  remembrance,  virtue  ;  though  renown 
Plant  laurels  on  the  warrior's  grave,  and  wreathes 
With  bay  the  slumbering  bard  —  the  mother's  urn 
Shall  claim  more  dear  memorials  :  gratitude 
Shall  there  abide ;  affection,  reverence,  there 
Shall  oft  revolve  the  precepts  which  now  speak 
With  emphasis  divine."  MRS.  WEST 

A  WRITER  of  the  "  Foreign  Quarterly  Review  "  relates 
the  following  anecdote  of  the  plague.     "  In  the  village  of 


MATERNAL   AFFECTION.  35 

Careggi,  whether  it  were  that  due  precautions  had  not 
been  taken,  or  that  the  disease  was  of  a  peculiarly  malig- 
nant nature,  one  after  another,  first  the  young  and  then 
the  old,  of  a  whole  £mily,  dropped  off.  A  woman,  who 
lived  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  way,  the  wife  of  a 
laborer,  the  mother  of  two  little  boys,  felt  herself  attacked 
by  fever  in  the  night ;  in  the  morning  it  greatly  in- 
creased, and  in  the  evening  the  fatal  tumor  appeared. 
This  was  during  the  absence  of  her  husband,  who  went 
to  work  at  a  distance,  and  only  returned  on  Saturday 
night,  bringing  home  the  scanty  means  of  subsistence 
for  his  family  for  the  week.  Terrified  by  the  example  of 
the  neighboring  family,  moved  by  the  fondest  love  for 
her  children,  and  determining  not  to  communicate  the 
disease  to  them,  she  formed  the  heroic  resolution  of 
leaving  her  home,  and  going  elsewhere  to  die.  Having 
locked  them  into  a  room,  and  sacrificed  to  their  safety  even 
the  last  and  sole  comfort  of  a  parting  embrace,  she  ran 
down  the  stairs,  carrying  with  her  the  sheets  and  cover- 
let, that  she  might  leave  no  means  of  contagion.  She 
then  shut  the  door,  with  a  sigh,  and  went  away.  But 
the  biggest,  hearing  the  door  shut,  went  to  the  window, 
and  seeing  her  running  in  that  manner,  cried  out,  '  Good- 
bye, mother,'  in  a  voice  so  tender  that  she  involuntarily 
stopped.  '  Good-bye,  mother,'  repeated  the  youngest 
child,  stretching  its  little  head  out  of  the  window.  And 
thus  was  the  poor,  afflicted  mother  compelled,  for  a  time, 
to  endure  (he  dreadful  conflict  between  the  yearnings 
which  called  her  back  and  the  pity  and  solicitude  which 
urged  her  on.  At  length,  the  latter  conquered;  and, 
amid  a  flood  of  tears,  and  the  farewells  of  her  children, 
who  knew  not  the  fatal  cause  and  import  of  those  tears, 
she  reached  the  house  of  those  who  were  to  bury  her. 


38  MATERNAL   AFFECTION. 

She  recommended  her  husband  and  children  to  them, 
and  in  two.  days  she  was  no  more." 


AFFECTING  FAMILY  SCENE. 

"  Thou,  while  thy  babes  around  thee  cling, 
Shalt  show  us  how  djjrine  a  thing 
A  woman  may  be  made."  WORDSWORTH. 

IN  September,  1789,  a  little  boy  about  five  years  old, 
the  son  of  a  man  named  Freemantle,  in  St.  Thomas' 
Churchyard,  Salisbury,  being  at  play  by  the  dam  of  the 
town  mill,  fell  into  the  water;  his  sister,  a  child  of  nine 
years  of  age,  with  an  affection  that  would  have  done 
honor  to  riper  years,  instantly  plunged  in  to  his  assist- 
ance. They  both  sank,  and  in  sight  of  their  mother ! 
The  poor  woman,  distracted  with  horror  at  the  prospect 
of  instant  death  to  her  children,  braved  the  flood  to  save 
them;  she  rose  with  one  under  each  arm,  and  by  her 
cries  happily  brought  her  husband,  who  instantly  swam 
to  their  assistance,  and  brought  them  all  three  safe  ashore. 


MATERNAL  AFFECTION   OF  MRS.  GRAY. 

"  A  mother's  love  !  oh !  who  may  breathe, 

Oh  !  who  can  feel  its  worth, 
Its  patient  suffering  until  death, 
E'en  from  our  childhood's  birth !  " 

THE  mother  of  Gray,  the  poet,  to  whom  he  was  in- 
debted for  that  education  which  elicited  his  briJiant 
talents,  seems  to  have  been  a  woman  of  most  amiable 
character,  and  whose  energy  supplied  to  the  child  that 
deficiency  which  the  improvidence  of  his  other  parent 
would  have  occasioned. 


MATERNAL   AFFECTION.  37 

The  following  extract  from  a  case  submitted  by  Mrs 
Gray  to  her  lawyer  develops  the  disposition  and  the 
habits  of  her  husband  in  a  light  not  the  most  favor- 
able, white  it  awakens  no  common  sympathy  and  respect 
for  herself. 

"  That  she  hath  been  no  charge  to  the  said  Philip,  and 
during  all  the  said  time  hath  not  only  found  herself  in  all 
manner  of  apparel,  but  also  for  her  children  to  the  num- 
ber of  twelve,  and  most  of  the  furniture  of  his  house, 
and  paying  forty  pounds  a  year  for  his  shop,  almost  pro- 
viding everything  for  her  son,  whilst  at  Eton  School, 
and  now  he  is  at  Peter  Hotcse,  Cambridge. 

"  Notwithstanding  which,  almost  ever  since  he  hath 
been  married,  he  hath  used  her  in  the  most  inhuman 
manner,  by  beating,  kicking,  punching,  and  with  the 
most  vile  and  abusive  language ;  that  she  hath  been  in 
the  utmost  fear  and  danger  of  her  life."  — "  This  she 
was  resolved  to  bear,  if  possible,  not  to  leave  her  shop  of 
trade,  for  the  sake  of  her  son,  to  be  able  to  assist  in  the 
maintenance  of  him  at  the  University,  since  his  father 
won't." 

To  the  love  and  courage  of  this  mother,  Gray  owed 
his  life  when  a  child;  she  ventured  what  few  women 
are  capable  of,  to  open  a  vein  with  her  own  hand,  and 
thus  removed  the  paroxysm  arising  from  fulness  of  blood, 
to  which,  it  is  said,  all  her  other  children  had  fallen 
victims.  We  need  not  wonder  that  Gray  mentioned 
such  a  mother  with  a  sigh. 
4 


38  MATERNAL   AFFECTION. 


THE   COUNTESS  OF  ORKNEY. 

"  I  could  not  doom  to  death  the  babe  I  clasped ; 
Did  ever  mother  kill  her  sleeping  boy  ? 

MRS.  HANNAH  MORE. 

MARY,  Countess  of  Orkney,  was  both  deaf  and  dumb  ; 
she  was  married  in  the  year  1753,  by  signs.  Shortly 
after  the  birth  of  her  first  child,  the  nurse,  with  con- 
siderable astonishment,  saw  the  mother  cautiously  ap- 
proach the  cradle  in  which  the  infant  was  sleeping, 
evidently  full  of  some  deep  design.  The  Countess, 
having  perfectly  assured  herself  that  the  child  really 
slept,  raised  an  immense  stone  which  she  had  concealed 
under  her  shawl,  and,  to  th^  horror  of  the  nurse,  (who 
was  an  Irish  woman,  and,  like  all  persons  of  the  lower 
orders  in  her  country,  and  indeed  in  most  countries,  was 
fully  impressed  with  an  idea  of  the  peculiar  cunning  and 
malignity  of  "  dumbies,")  lifted  it  with  an  apparent 
intent  to  fling  it  down  vehemently.  Before  the  nurse 
could  interpose,  the  Countess  had  flung  the  stone,  —  not, 
however,  as  the  servant  had  apprehended,  at  the  child, 
but  on  the  floor,  where,  of  course,  it  made  a  great  noise. 
The  child  immediately  awoke,  and  cried.  The  Countess, 
who  had  looked  with  maternal  eagerness  to  the  result  of 
her  experiment,  fell  on  her  knees  in  a  transport  of  joy. 
She  had  discovered  that  her  child  possessed  the  sense 
which  was  deficient  in  herself.  She  exhibited  on  many 
other  occasions  similar  proofs  of  intelligence,  but  none 
so  interesting. 


MATERNAL   AFFECTION.  39 


PETITION  TO   THE   INFANT  KING  OF  ROME. 

"  Such  moments  are  most  precious  !  " 

THE  following  anecdote  may  be  relied  upon  as  authen- 
tic. A  few  days  subsequent  to  the  birth  of  the  young 
King  of  Rome,  a  widow  lady,  whose  only  son  was  drawn 
to  serve  in  the  conscription,  presented  herself  at  the  - 
Tuileries,  stating  that  she  had  a  petition,  and  must  be 
admitted ;  when,  in  spite  of  all  opposition,  her  demands 
became  so  loud,  reiterated,  and  urgent,  that  Napoleon, 
hearing  the  distant  altercation,  demanded  the  cause, 
which  having  learned,  he  forthwith  ordered  that  the 
applicant  should  be  ushered  to  his  presence,  who,  up<  n 
beholding  the  Emperor,  (falling  upon  her  knee,)  request* -d 
that  she  might  be  conducted  to  the  young  King  of  Ron  e, 
to  whom  her  petition  was  addressed.  Napoleon,  son  e- 
what  astonished  at  the  singularity  of  this  request,  to  )k 
the  paper,  which  upon  perusal  was  found  to  contain  a 
prayer,  that  her  son  might  be  exempted  from  the  effects 
of  the  conscription  laws ;  upon  which,  the  Emperor,  gra- 
ciously smiling,  approached  the  cradle  of  his  son,  and 
reclining  over  the  infant,  read,  in  a  low  voice,  the  con- 
tents of  the  petition,  after  which,  pausing  awhile,  he 
turned  his  ear  to  the  cradle,  as  if  in  expectation  of  a 
reply;  and  then  advancing  towards  the  applicant  — 
•''  Madame,''  said  Napoleon,  "  I  have  read  your  petition, 
and  as  there  is  no  answer,  silence  of  course  implies  consent" 
It  is  needless  to  add,  that  the  youth  was  in  consequence 
exempted  from  service,  and  the  fond  mother  had  to  exult 
\n  the  fortunate  termination  of  her  lucky  expedient. 


40  MATERNAL    AFFECTION. 

MELANCHOLY  CATASTROPHE. 

"  O  grief  most  sharp 
To  her  indeed  a  mother ! "  —  MKS.  WEST. 

SOME  years  ago  a  fire  broke  out  at  Whitechapel,  in  a 
row  of  houses  principally  occupied  by  lodgtrs.  So  rapid 
were  the  flames  that  it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  the 
unfortunate  inhabitants  could  be  rescued.  One  poor 
woman,  with  a  large  family,  who  had  just  escaped,  was 
kneeling,  with  her  children  around  her,  to  return  thanks 
to  God  for  their  preservation,  when  she  found  that  her 
youngest  child,  an  infant,  was  still  missing.  With  a 
courage  and  desperation  which  maternal  affection,  height- 
ened by  despair,  could  alone  have  prompted,  she  flew, 
half  naked  as  she  was,  up  the  blazing  staircase,  rushed 
into  the  room,  snatched  the  babe  from  the  cradle,  and 
bore  it  in  triumph  to  her  family  group :  a  triumph,  alas ! 
short  lived,  for  the  infant  was  not  her  own.  Misled  by 
the  smoke  which  filled  the  building,  she  had  entered  a 
wrong  apartment,  and  rescued  the  child  of  one  of  hei 
neighbors,  instead  of  her  own.  She  hastened  back, 
but,  by  this  time,  the  whole  building  had  fallen  in,  when 
she  sunk  senseless  on  the  ground,  and  died  within  a  few 
hours. 


FILIAL   AFFECTION. 


XOMAN     DAUGHTER. XANTIPPE. SERVILIA. AGNES     HOTOT.  — 

MARGARET    ROPER. MRS.    MORICE.  AMERICAN    DAUGHTER. — 

ELIZABETH  CAZOTTE. MADEMOISELLE  DE  SOMBREUIL. MADAMR 

DE      BOIS      BERANGER. MADEMOISELLE      DELLEGLACE. INFANT 

VICTIM  TO  FILIAL  AFFECTION. THE    CREOLE    AND  HIS  DAUGHTER. 

MADAME  DE  LA  ROCHEFOUCAULT. 


"  Heaven  hath  timely  tried  their  youth, 
Their  faith,  their  patience,  and  their  truth, 
And  sent  them  here,  through  hard  assays, 
With  a  crown  of  deathless  praise;"  —  MILTON. 

NATURE  has  implanted  in  every  human  breast  a  dispo- 
sition to  love  and  revere  the  authors  of  our  being,  on 
whom,  from  our  earliest  infancy,  we  are  dependent  for 
overy  comfort,  convenience,  and  pleasure  in  life  :  every 
heart  which  is  not  wholly  destitute  of  feeling  must  beat 
with  the  warmest  emotions  of  gratitude  towards  them, 
and  be  alive  to  the  tenderness  of  filial  piety.  Thus  we 
find  that,  in  all  ages  of  the  world,  those  who  have  become 
truly  great,  whatever  may  have  been  their  country, 
whether  they  have  been  the  natives  of  enlightened  Europe, 
or  of  a  land  of  unpolished  savages,  have  always  been  dis- 
tinguished, either  in  their  infancy  or  at  a  more  advanced 
period  of  life,  by  some  trait  of  this  affection,  which 
appears  to  form  a  basis  for  all  the  other  virtues. 
4* 


42  FILIAL    AFFECTION. 


SINGULAR  INSTANCE  OF  FILIAL  PIETY. 

"  Can  such  things  be, 
And  overcome  us  like  a  summer's  cloud, 
Without  our  special  wonder  ?  " —  SHAKSFEAKE. 

THE  Roman  history  furnishes  us  with  a  remarkable 
example  of  filial  piety.  A  lady,  of  illustrious  birth,  had 
for  some  cause  been  condemned  to  be  strangled,  and  was 
sent  to  prison  in  order  to  be  put  to  death.  The  gaoler, 
who  had  received  orders  to  strangle  her,  was  touched 
with  compassion  for  her  beauty  and  misfortunes,  and  not 
being  able  to  resolve  to  kill  her,  determined  to  let  her  die 
of  hunger.  He  however  consented  to  allow  her  daughter 
to  visit  her  in  the  prison,  taking  care  that  she  brought  her 
mother  no  food.  Many  days  elapsed,  during  which  the 
daughter's  visits  were  very  frequent :  at  length  the  gaoler 
became  surprised  that  his  prisoner  could  exist  so  long 
without  sustenance.  His  suspicions  immediately  rested 
on  the  daughter,  whom  he  now  determined  to  watch  still 
more  closely  :  to  his  utmost  astonishment,  he  found  that 
she  nourished  her  mother  with  her  own  milk.  His 
amazement  at  this  pious  and  ingenious  invention  caused 
him  to  inform  the  triumvir  of  the  circumstance,  who 
immediately  acquainted  the  praetor  with  it.  The  latter, 
considering  it  worthy  the  public  attention,  related  it  in  an 
assembly  of  the  people.  The  result  was  the  pardon  of 
the  criminal ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  a  decree  was  passed, 
that  for  the  future  both  mother  and  daughter  should  be 
supported  at  the  public  expense.  The  Romans  also  raised 
ft  temple  upon  the  spot,  and  dedicated  it  to  Filial  Piety. 


FILIAL    AFFECTIOH.  43 


CIMONUS  SAVED  BY  HIS  DAUGHTER. 

"  My  child  and  father  vital  nurture  crave, 
Parental,  filial,  fondness  both  would  save ; 
But  if  a  nursling  only  one  can  live, 
I  choose  to  save  the  life  I  cannot  give." 

XAIXTIPPE,  another  Roman  lady,  supported  her  aged 
father,  Cimonus,  in  a  similar  manner,  in  order  to  preserve 
his  life  while  in  prison.  This  last  circumstance  was 
called  the  "Roman  Charity."  Both  these  pious  actions 
appeared  so  extraordinary  to  that  people,  that  they  could 
only  account  for  them  by  supposing  that  filial  affection 
was  the  first  law  of  nature. 


CONDEMNATION  OF   SERVILIA. 

"  The  very  head  and  front  of  our  offending 
Hath  this  extent  —  no  more." 

AMONG  an  incredible  number  of  illustrious  persons  who 
were  falsely  accused  and  put  to  death  by  Nero,  was 
Bareas  Soranus,  a  man,  as  Tacitus  informs  us,  of  singular 
vigilance  and  justice  in  the  discharge  of  his  duty.  Dur- 
ing his  confinement,  his  daughter,  Servilia,  was  appre- 
hended and  brought  into  the  senate,  and  there  arraigned. 
The  crime  laid  to  her  charge  was,  that  she  had  turned 
into  money  all  her  ornaments  and  jewels,  and  the  most 
valuable  part  of  her  dress,  to  defray  the  expense  of  con- 
sulting magicians.  To  this  the  young  Servilia,  with 
tears,  replied,  —  that  she  had  indeed  consulted  magicians  ; 
but  the  whole  of  her  inquiry  was  to  know  whether  the 
emperor  and  senate  would  afford  protection  and  safety  to 
her  dear  and  indulgent  parent  against  his  accusers. 
•'With  this  view,"  said  she,  "I  presented  the  diviners, 


44  FILIAL     AFFECTION. 

men  till  now  utterly  unknown  to  me,  with  my  jewels, 
apparel,  and  the  other  ornaments  peculiar  to  my  quality, 
as  I  would  have  presented  my  blood  and  life,  could  my 
blood  and  life  have  procured  my  father's  liberty.  But 
whatever  this  my  proceeding  was,  my  unfortunate  father 
was  an  utter  stranger  to  it ;  and  if  it  is  a  crime,  I  alone 
am  the  delinquent."  She  was,  however,  together  with 
her  father,  condemned  to  die ;  but  in  what  manner,  history 
is  silent. 


COURAGE  OF  AGNES  HOTOT. 

"  Fair  was  her  face,  and  spotless  was  her  mind, 
Where  filial  love  with  virgin  sweetness  joined."  —  POPL. 

THE  crest  of  Dudley,  of  Northamptonshire,  Bart.,  was 
"  Out  of  a  ducal  coronet  or,  a  woman's  bust :  her  hair 
dishevelled,  bosom  bare,  a  helmet  on  her  head,  with  the 
stay  or  throat-latch  down  proper."  From  a  MS.  in  the 
possession  of  this  family,  written  by  a  monk  about  the 
close  of  the  fourteenth  century,  it  appeared  that  the 
father  of  Agnes  Hotot  (who,  in  the  year  1395,  married 
an  ancestor  of  the  Dudleys)  having  a  quarrel  with  one 
Ringsdale,  concerning  the  proprietorship  of  some  land, 
they  agreed  to  meet  on  the  "  debatable  ground,"  and 
decide  their  right  by  combat.  Unfortunately  for  Hotot, 
on  the  day  appointed  he  was  seriously  ill ;  "  but  his 
daughter  Agnes,  unwilling  that  he  should  lose  his  claim, 
or  suffer  in  his  honor,  armed  herself  cap-a-pie,  and 
mounting  her  father's  steed,  repaired  to  the  place  of 
decision,  where,  after  a  stubborn  encounter,  she  dis- 
mounted Kingsdale,  and  when  he  was  on  the  ground,  she 
loosened  the  stay  of  her  helmet,  let  down  her  hair  about 
her  shoulders,  and,  disclosing  her  bosom,  discovered  to 


FILIAL   AFFECTION.  45 

him  that  he  had  been  conquered  by  a  woman."  This 
valiant  lady  became  the  heiress  of  her  family,  and  mar- 
ried a  Dudley,  whence  the  latter  family  derived  their 
right  to  this  crest.* 


MAKGAKET  ROPER. 

"  'T  was  the  first  time  I  mourned  the  dead : 
It  was  my  heaviest  loss,  my  worst,  — 
My  father  !  —  and  was  thine  the  first  ?"  —  L.  E.  L. 

MODERN  history  commemorates  the  name  of  Margaret 
Koper,  the  daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  as  another 
illustrious  example  of  this  affection.  When  Sir  Thomas, 
who  had  refused  to  take  the  oath  of  supremacy,  was  cast 
into  prison,  his  daughter,  who  was  overwhelmed  with 
grief,  was,  through  incessant  importunity,  permitted  to 
visit  him.  Admitted  at  length  to  his  prison,  she  endeav- 
ored, by  every  argument,  expostulation,  and  entreaty, 
to  induce  him  to  relent  from  his  purpose.  But  her  elo- 
quence, her  tenderness,  and  her  tears,  were  alike  inef- 
fectual :  constant  to  the  last,  the  principles  of  this  great 
and  unfortunate  man  were  not  to  be  shaken.  Margaret 
corresponded  with  her  father  during  the  whole  of  his 
imprisonment,  and  when  deprived  of  pen  and  ink,  Sir 
Thomas  contrived  to  write  to  her  by  means  of  a  coal. 

When  sentence  had  been  passed  upon  him,  and  he  was 
returning  towards  the  Tower,  Margaret  rushed  through 
the  populace  and  the  guards,  and,  without  speaking, 
threw  her  arms  round  her  father's  neck,  clinging  closely 
to  him,  in  the  stupor  of  despair.  Even  the  guards  melted 
into  compassion  at  this  affecting  scene.  The  fortitude  c4 

*  An  engraving  of  the  crest  may  be  seen  in  Lower's  Curiosi 
ties  of  Heraldry,  p  172,  where  this  anecdote  is  recorded. 


46  FILIAL   AFFECTION. 

the  noble  prisoner  seemed  for  a  moment  to  be  shaken 
with  the  sight  of  his  daughter's  sorrow.  Tenderly 
embracing  her  he  withdrew  himself  from  her  arms. 
Scarcely,  however,  had  he  proceeded  a  few  paces  further, 
when  she  again  rusned  towards  him,  and,  in  a  paroxysm 
of  sorrow  more  eloquent  than  words,  threw  herself  on 
his  bosom.  Tears  flowed  down  the  venerable  cheeks  of 
Sir  Thomas,  while  he  gazed  upon  her  with  tender  ear- 
nestness :  having  entreated  her  prayers  for  him,  he  bade 
her  affectionately  farewell. 

Margaret  extended  her  cares  to  the  lifeless  remains  of 
this  beloved  jKuent.  Through  her  interest  and  exertions, 
his  body  was,  after  his  execution,  interred  in  the  Chapel 
of  St.  Peter's  ad  vincula^  within  the  precincts  of  the 
Tower:  it  was  afterwards  removed,  according  to  the 
appointment  which  had  been  made  by  Sir  Thomas  dur- 
ing his  lifetime,  to  the  chancel  of  the  church  of  Chelsea. 
His  head,  in  conformity  with  the  sentence,  having 
remained  fourteen  days  exposed  upon  London  Bridge, 
would  have  been  cast  into  the  Thames,  had  it  not  been 
purchased  by  his  daughter.  Inhumanly  summoned  in 
consequence  before  the  council,  Margaret  firmly  acknowl- 
edged and  justified  her  conduct.  Such  intrepidity  could 
not  escape  King  Henry's  vengeance :  she  was  cast  into 
prison,  whence,  after  some  vain  attempts  to  subdue  her 
courage  by  menaces,  she  was  permitted  to  escape,  and 
join  her  husband  and  family.  At  her  death,  which  took 
place  nine  years  after  these  events,  the  head  of  her 
unfortunate  parent  was  interred  with  her,  in  her  arms 
according  to  some  histoiians ;  or,  as  others  say.  deposited 
in  a  leaden  box  and  placed  upon  her  coffin. 


FILIAL   AFFECTION.  47 

EXTRAORDINARY  FILIAL   SACRIFICE. 

"  'T  is  thine  on  every  heart  to  grave  thy  praise, 
A  monument  which  Worth  alone  can  raise."  —  BK<OME. 

FROM  the  preceding  illustrious  sample  of  the  power  of 
filial  affection,  we  turn  to  one  not  less  affecting,  though 
displayed  in  a  humbler  path  of  life.  In  the  severe 
winter  of  1783,  which  was  a  time  of  general  distress  at 
New  York,  an  aged  couple  found  themselves  reduced  to 
their  last  stick  of  wood.  They  had  been  supported  by 
the  industry  of  a  daughter  who  lived  with  them,  but  who 
now  found  herself  unable  to  procure  .them  either  fuel  or 
provisions.  Overcome  with  grief  at  their  destitute  situa- 
tion, she  yet  devised  an  expedient  by  which  they  might 
be  rescued  from  the  emergency.  She  had  accidentally 
heard  that  a  dentist  had  advertised  to  give  three  guineas 
for  every  sound  fore-tooth,  provided  only  that  he  was 
allowed  to  extract  it  himself:  the  generous  girl,  on  remem- 
bering this,  came  to  the  resolution  of  disposing  of  all 
her  fore-teeth,  and  went  to  the  dentist  for  that  purpose. 
On  her  arrival,  she  made  known  the  circumstances  which 
had  induced  her  to  make  so  uncommon  a  sacrifice. 

Affected  even  to  tears  by  the  girl's  filial  affection,  the 
dentist  refused  to  avail  himself  of  the  offer,  at  the  same 
time  presenting  her  with  ten  guineas,  with  which,  her 
heart  overflowing  with  joy  and  gratitude,  she  hastened 
home  to  relieve  her  parents. 

HEROISM   OF   ELIZABETH   CAZOTTE. 

'*  Stay,  go,  do  what  you  will,  the  like  do  I ; 
For  live  I  will  not,  if  my  father  die.  —  SHAKSFEARE. 

DURING  the  French  Revolution,  which  endangered  the 
•ives  of  so  many  parents,  filial  affection,  rising  superior 


48  FILIAL   AFFECTION. 

to  all  selfish  considerations  of  safety,  might  be  seen  n 
many  interesting  forms.  Daughters  then  subjected  them- 
selves to  every  indignity,  in  their  endeavors  to  alleviate 
the  sufferings  of  those  who  were  dearer  to  them  than  life 
itself:  kneeling  at  the  feet  of  their  inhuman  persecutors, 
they  besought  some  mitigation  at  least  of  their  parents' 
sentence,  and,  if  unsuccessful  in  these  efforts,  shared 
their  prison,  and  voluntarily  partook  their  unhappy  fate. 

Mademoiselle  Cazotte  was  an  only  child,  and,  at  the 
commencement  of  the  Revolution,  her  father  was  seventy- 
two  years  of  age.  Closely  connected  with  La  Porte,  (the 
intendant  of  the  civil  list,)  the  fate  of  Cazotte  was  in- 
volved in  his.  Some  of  Gazette's  letters  being  found  on 
the  person  of  La  Porte,  the  old  man  and  his  daughter 
were  immediately  arrested,  and  sent  to  the  prison  of  the 
Abbey. 

Shortly  afterwards,  Mademoiselle  Cazotte  having  been 
pronounced  innocent,  an  order  arrived  at  the  prison  that 
sh«  might  be  set  at  liberty.  Elizabeth,  however,  refused 
to  avail  herself  of  it,  being  resolved  to  share  her  father's 
fate,  and  she  succeeded  in  obtaining  permission  to  remain 
with  him.  While  in  the  prison,  by  her  interesting  appear- 
ance and  the  pathetic  eloquence  of  her  language,  she 
was  so  fortunate  as  to  interest  some  Marseillois,  who  had 
quartered  themselves  in  the  abbey,  in  her  behalf;  thus 
for  a  time  her  father's  life  was  safe.  On  the  2d  of  Sep- 
tember, however,  after  an  uninterrupted  massacre,  which 
had  lasted  three  hours,  a  number  of  voices  called  loudly 
for  Cazotte.  At  that  name,  which  seemed  to  threaten 
jnstant  danger,  Elizabeth  rushed  forward  to  meet  her  fa- 
ther's murderers.  Her  extreme  youth,  wonderful  beauty, 
and  uncommon  courage,  seemed  to  shake  their  purpose. 
One  more  stern  and  hardened  in  crime  than  the  rest 


FILIAL   AFFECTION.  49 

advanced  to  Cazotte,  and  demanded  why  he  had  been 
imprisoned,  with  his  daughter.  "  You  will  find  it  in  the 
gaoler's  book,"  was  the  old  man's  reply.  Two  of  the 
party  being  sent  to  examine  the  book,  shortly  returne  1 
with  the  tidings  that  Cazotte  was  detained  as  a  decided 
counter-revolutionist.  Scarcely  was  the  report  uttered, 
when  an  axe  was  raised  over  the  head  of  Cazotte.  His 
daughter,  wildly  shrieking,  threw  herself  upon  him,  cov- 
ering him  with  her  body,  and,  disdaining  to  descend  to 
unworthy  supplications,  only  demanded  to  die  with  him. 
"  Strike,  barbarians ! "  she  cried ;  "  you  cannot  reach  my 
father  but  through  my  heart ! "  At  this  moving  spec- 
tacle, the  assassins  hesitated  and  trembled,  while  a  shout 
of  pardon !  pardon !  was  heard  from  one  individual,  and 
echoed  by  a  hundred  voices.  The  Marseillois  opened 
themselves  a  passage  to  the  two  victims,  and  the  father 
and  daughter,  covered  with  this  sacred  shield,  were  con- 
ducted, with  shouts  of  applause,  from  that  habitation  of 
misfortunes  and  crimes. 

The  liberation  of  Cazotte,  however,  afforded  but  a  tem- 
porary security;  he  was  again  arrested  upon  the  institu- 
tion of  the  Criminal  Tribunal.  The  good  old  man  endeav- 
ored to  dissuade  his  daughter  from  accompanying  him 
to  prison,  but  his  prayers,  entreaties,  and  tears,  nay, 
even  his  positive  commands,  were  here  entirely  fruitless. 
"  In  your  company,  my  father,"  said  Elizabeth,  "  I  have 
faced  the  most  cruel  of  assassins ;  and  shall  I  not  be  the 
companion  of  your  new  misfortune,  in  which  there  is 
less  danger  ?  The  hope  of  saving  you  will  again  support 
me ;  I  will  show  to  your  judges  your  forehead  furrowed 
with  age ;  I  will  ask  them  if  a  man,  an  old  man,  who 
has  but  a  few  days  to  linger  out  among  his  fellow-beings, 
may  not  find  mercy  in  the  eyes  of  justice,  after  having 
5 


50  FILIAL   AFFECTION. 

escaped  the  extreme  of  danger?  If  he  whose  white  hairs 
could  plead  with  assassins,  ought  not  to  receive  indul- 
gence from  magistrates,  one  of  whose  attributes  should 
be  mercy  ?  The  voice  of  nature  will  again  be  heard,  and 
perhaps  I  may  again  save  you  from  the  cruel  fate  which 
impends  over  us."  Overcome  by  her  pressing  entreaties, 
Gazette  at  last  allowed  his  child  to  attend  him  to  the 
prison.  When,  however,  they  arrived  there,  the  unhappy 
girl  was  denied  admission,  and  compelled  to  yield  up  her 
father.  In  an  agony  of  grief,  she  hastened  to  the  com- 
mune, and  to  the  minister  of  the  interior,  from  whom,  by 
her  supplications  and  tears,  she  wrested  their  permission 
to  attend  her  father.  From  that  moment  she  devoted 
herself  wholly  to  him,  spending  day  and  night  in  admin- 
istering to  his  comforts.  The  only  time  that  she  passed 
away  from  his  prison  was  employed  in  securing  promises 
of  support  from  the  same  Marseillois  who  had  formerly 
rendered  her  father  such  service;  and  she  likewise 
received  promises  from  several  ladies  of  distinction,  that 
their  interest  should  be  exerted  in  her  behalf.  These 
expectations  were,  alas !  vainly  excited,  for  every  human 
being  abandoned  them  in  the  hour  of  trial. 

When  Cazotte  was  called  .before  the  tribunal,  the  old 
man  appeared,  supported  by  his  daughter.  A  murmur 
of  applause  ran  through  the  multitude  that  filled  the  court 
at  this  affecting  sight,  while  Elizabeth,  with  her  eyes 
fixed  on  her  father,  endeavored  to  encourage  and  console 
him  at  this  trying  moment.  The  pleading  was  soon, 
commenced  :  during  the  reading  of  the  written  evidence, 
and  the  speech  of  the  public  accuser,  the  entire  feelings 
of  Elizabeth  were  imprinted  on  her  beautiful  countenance. 
Every  one  remarked  the  variety  of  changes  it  under- 
went ;  fear  and  hope  rapidly  succeeding  to  each  other: 


FILIAL  AFFECTION.  51 

se  "era!  times  she  was  on  the  point  of  raising  her  voice, 
hut  was  checked  by  remembering  that  her  father  had, 
previous  to  the  trial,  imposed  silence  on  her.  At 
length  she  heard  the  dreadful  conclusion  of  the  speech 
of  the  public  accuser,  which  was  but  too  faithful  an 
omen  of  his  fate.  Pale,  trembling,  and  ready  to  sink 
into  the  ground,  she  was  only  sustained  by  her  father's 
voice,  who,  in  a  low  tone,  pointing  towards  heaven, 
addressed  to  her  a  few  words  of  consolation.  But 
though  calmed  for  the  moment,  when  the  sentence  was 
about  to  be  pronounced,  they  found  it  necessary  to 
remove  her  from  the  hall;  and  when  so  far  removed 
that  her  groans  could  no  longer  be  heard,  she  abandoned 
herself  to  a  despair  which  baffles  description.  The 
unhappy  girl  had  seen  her  father  for  the  last  time :  she 
had  breathed  a  portion  of  her  feelings  into  every  soul ; 
and  the  deep  sighs  which  arose  from  every  corner  of  the 
court,  when  she  was  carried  thence,  were  proofs  of  the 
homage  due  to  filial  virtue.  Some  humane  persons 
followed  her  to  the  prison,  where  they  found  her  in  a 
swoon  :  on  recovering  herself,  she  begged  to  be  taken  to 
her  father,  that  she  might  die  with  him.  It  was  not 
until  surrounded  by  her  father's  friends,  and  become  a 
witness  of  their  affliction,  that  her  own  sorrow  could 
receive  any  mitigation;  and  the  favorable  moment  was 
seized  to  lead  hei  back  to  her  iamily 


92  FILIAL  AFFECTION. 

MADEMOISELLE   DE   SOMBREUIL. 

"  May  my  fears, 

My  filial  fears,  be  vain !  and  may  the  vaunts 
And  menace  of  the  vengeful  enemy 
Pass  like  the  gust,  that  roared  and  died  away 
In  the  distant  tree  :  which  heard,  and  only  heard 
In  this  low  dell,  bowed  not  the  delicate  grass."  —  COLERIDGE. 

THE  heroism  of  Elizabeth  Cazotte,  which  could  not  fail 
to  excite  the  admiration  and  sympathy  of  her  country- 
women, was  imitated  by  many  young  persons,  from 
similar  impulses  of  devoted  affection.  Mademoiselle  de 
Sombreuil  claims  a  share  of  our  esteem,  for  the  intrepidity 
she  displayed,  when,  rushing  into  the  presence  of  the 
murderers  who  had  seized  her  father,  she  exclaimed,  as 
she  fell  at  their  feet,  "  Barbarians,  hold  your  hands  —  he 
is  my  father  !  "  In  another  moment  she  had  so  placed 
herself,  that  the  sword  could  not  reach  the  parent  but 
through  the  heart  of  his  child.  Perceiving  that  they 
hesitated  to  accomplish  their  barbarous  purpose,  she  sup- 
plicated once  more,  with  renewed  earnestness,  that  they 
would  spare  her  father's  life.  Even  while  she  spoke,  one 
of  the  monsters,  whose  unfeeling  heart  was  proof  against 
the  self-devotion  and  heroism  of  the  lovely  girl  at  his  feet, 
annexed  to  her  father's  safety-the  following  condition. 
"  Drink,"  said  he,  "  a  glass  of  blood,  and  save  your  father." 
Mademoiselle  de  Sombreuil,  shuddering,  retreated  several 
paces ;  but  filial  affection  gained  the  ascendance,  and  she 
yielded  to  the  horrible  proposal. 

"  Innocent  or  guilty,  then,"  said  one  of  the  judges  who 
happened  to  be  present,  "  it  is  unworthy  of  the  people  t> 
bathe  their  hands  in  the  blood  of  this  old  mon,  since  they 
must  first  destroy  this  virtuous  girl."  A  shout  of  "par- 
don !  pardon  !  "  was  heard  from  those  who  had  with 
dtfTculty  refrained  from  tears.  The  daughter  was  clasped 


FILIAL   AFFECTION.  53 

in  her  father's  trembling  arms,  and  they  left  the  prison 
together,  conducted  in  triumph  by  those  who  had  come 
for  so  very  different  a  purpose. 

Mademoiselle  de  Sombreuil  afterwards  married  the 
Count  de  Villelume,  and  in  commemoration  of  the  loyalty 
of  her  family,  and  her  own  filial  heroism,  Louis  XVIII. 
permitted  her  sons  to  add  the  name  of  De  Sombreuil  to 
that  of  Villelume. 


EXECUTION  OF  MADAME  DE  BOIS  BERANGER. 

"  The  grave  unites ;  where  e'en  the  great  find  rest, 
And  blended  lie  th'  oppressor  and  th'  opprest."  —  POPE. 

IN  the  prisons  of  Paris  whole  families  were  frequently 
crowded  together,  when  the  members  of  each  would  be 
united  so  strongly  by  sympathy,  that  their  sole  request 
and  wish  would  be  that  they  might  die  together,  consoled 
by  the  reflection,  that,  in  escaping  from  such  scenes  of 
dreadful  persecution,  they  would  still  be  united  in  a 
happier  state  of  existence. 

When  the  ci-devant  Marchioness  de  Bois  Beranger 
was  detained  in  the  Luxembourg,  with  her  father,  mother, 
and  a  younger  sister,  she  forgot  her  own  misfortunes 
in  endeavoring  to  console  her  family  under  theirs.  A 
solicitude  even  maternal  was  displayed  in  her  unceasing 
tenderness  towards  her  mother,  whose  drooping  fortitude 
was  reanimated  by  her  example.  When  at  length  the 
act  of  accusation  arrived  for  her  father,  mother,  and 
sister,  Madame  de  Bois  Beranger  found  that  she  alone 
was  exempt :  and  the  discovery  of  the  mournful  pref- 
erence filled  her  with  anguish.  "  You  will  die,  then," 
she  exclaimed,  "  before  me,  and  I  am  condemned  to  sur- 
vive you !  "  Overwhelmed  with  despair,  she  clung  to 
5* 


54  FILIAL  AFFECTION. 

those  beloved  relations,  exclaiming,  "Alas!  alf/s!  we 
shall  not  die  together ! " 

In  the  midst  of  this  moving  scene,  a  second  accusation 
arrived  at  the  prison,  in  which  the  name  of  the  Mar- 
chioness was  included.  From  this  moment  there  were 
no  more  tears,  no  more  exclamations  of  grief,  from  this 
affectionate  daughter.  She  flew  to  embrace  her  parents. 
"  See,"  she  cried,  as  she  displayed  the  act  of  accusation 
in  joyful  triumph,  as  though  she  held  in  her  hand  the 
decree  of  their  liberty  and  her  own,  "  see,  my  mother,  — 
we  shall  die  together." 

On  the  day  of  execution,  she  attired  herself  with  ele- 
gance, and  cut  off  the  long  tresses  of  her  fine  hair  with 
her  own  hand.  On  leaving  the  Conciergerie  to  go  to  the 
scaffold,  she  supported  her  mother,  who  seemed  to  be 
"overcome  by  an  excess  of  grief.  The  sorrows  of -her 
parent  appeared  alone  to  be  subjects  of  regret  to  the 
Marchioness  at  this  critical  moment.  "  Dearest  madam," 
she  said,  in  the  tenderest  accent,  "  be  consoled :  why  are 
you  not  happy?  You  die  innocent,  and  in  the  same 
innocence  all  your  family  follow  you  to  the  tomb,  and 
will  partake  with  you,  in  a  better  state,  the  recompense 
of  virtue." 


MADEMOISELLE  DELLEGLACE  SAVES  HER  FATHER. 

"  And  is  it  then  to  live  ?  when  such  friends  part, 
'T  is  the  survivor  dies." 

MADEMOISELLE  DELLEGLACE  was  also  a  remarkable 
instance  of  filial  affection.  When  her  father  was  to  be 
conveyed  from  the  prison  at  Lyons  to  the  Conciergerie, 
this  affectionate  girl,  who  from  the  first  moment  of  his 
arrest  had  never  quitted  him,  demanded  permission  to 


FILIAL   AFFECTION.  55 

travel  with  him  in  the  carriage  prepared  for  his  journey. 
This  boon  she  could  not  obtain ;  but  what  obstacles  can 
subdue  the  strength  of  filial  love?  Laying  aside  the 
timidity  natural  to  her  sex,  and  wholly  disregarding  the 
weakness  of  her  constitution,  Mademoiselle  Delleglace  set 
out  on  foot  with  the  carriage,  which  she  accompanied 
in  that  manner  for  more  than  a  hundred  leagues.  She 
sometimes  quitted  the  side  of  the  carriage,  but  it  was 
only  when  she  preceded  her  father,  to  procure  proper 
nourishment  for  him  in  the  towns  through  which  they 
passed ;  and  in  the  evening  of  every  day,  when  she  ran 
forward  to  beg  of  some  charitable  person  a  covering,  to 
administer  to  her  father's  wants,  in  the  dungeon  where 
he  must  pass  the  night. 

When,  at  length,  they  reached  the  gates  of  the  Con- 
ciergerie,  she  was  denied  admittance  with  him,  and  com- 
pelled to  give  up  the  expectation  of  being  his  companion 
in  prison.  But  her  fortitude  did  not  yet  give  way ;  she 
did  not  cease,  during  three  months,  to  implore  the  justice 
and  humanity  of  all  those  influential  persons  to  whom 
she  could  gain  access.  Her  perseverance  was  finally 
crowned  with  success ;  and  exulting  with  joy,  she  hastened 
to  bear  the  happy  tidings  to  her  father,  and  contemplated 
the  delight  of  herself  conducting  him  back  to  his  home 
and  family.  But  it  was  otherwise  ordained :  worn  out 
by  the  excess  of  fatigue  she  had  undergone  during  this 
unparalleled  exertion,  she  was  taken  ill  on  the  road,  and 
obliged  *^o  remain  at  an  inn,  until  her  father  could  be 
informed  of  the  circumstance  and  be  set  at  liberty.  She 
never  again  left  her  bed,  but  died  in  her  beloved  parent's 
arms ;  still  deeming  herself  happy  in  having  purchased 
his  life  at  the  expense  of  her  own. 


56  FILIAL   AFFECTION. 

EARLY  INSTANCE   OF  FILIAL  PIETY. 

"  O'er  friendless  grief  compassion  shall  awake, 

And  smile  on  innocence,  for  mercy's  sake."  —  CAMPBELL. 

WHO  has  not  heard,  and  who  has  not  shed  tears  ai 
hearing,  of  that  beautiful  and  interesting  girl,  of  only 
eight  years  of  age,  who  went  every  morning  to  the  Place 
de  la  Revolution,  to  mourn  and  lament  the  death  of  her 
mother,  who  was  executed  there  ?  This  child  took  many 
precautions  to  escape  observation:  but  her  manner  was 
at  length  noticed  by  some  women  who  sold  fruit  near  the 
spot.  Being  asked  the  cause  of  her  tears,  "  Ah  !  "  she 
said,  "my  poor  mother,  whom  I  loved  so  well,  died  where 
I  now  stand;  but  oh !  do  not,  I  beg  of  you,  tell  any  one 
that  you  saw  me  cry,  for  that,  perhaps,  would  cause  the 
death  of  my  brother  and  my  sisters."  After  this  guile- 
less answer,  which  greatly  affected  her  audience,  she 
hastily  retired,  and  was  never  seen  there  again.  It  was 
afterwards  known  that  this  early  victim  of  filial  affection 
died  in  a  few  weeks,  bowed  down  by  a  grief  which  she 
could  not  cast  off". 


THE   CREOLE   AND  HIS  DAUGHTER. 
"  What  breast  so  cold,  that  is  not  wanned  here  ? "  —  SHAKSPEARK. 

ANOTHER  child  was  the  happy  means  of  saving  her 
father's  life.  He  was  a  Creole  of  St.  Domingo,  and  was 
guilty  of  no  other  crime  than  that  of  being  rich  and  pre- 
serving the  inheritance  of  his  forefathers.  At  that  time, 
when  the  contagious  example  of  the  French  Revolution 
had  spread  as  far  as  the  New  World,  the  horrible  practice 
was  adopted  of  assembling  in  groups  the  unfortunate 
victims  who  were  ordered  to  be  executed,  and  then  firing 


FILIAL  AFFECTION.  51 

indiscriminately  upon  them,  with  cannons  loaded  with 
grape-shot. 

The  eyes  of  the  creole  had  been  blindfolded,  and 
he  stood  among  a  crowd  of  other  unfortunate  beings, 
expecting  every  instant  the  signal  of  death. 

When,  however,  the  order  to  discharge  the  artillery 
was  about  to  be  given,  a  girl  rushed  forward,  with  a 
loud  cry  of  "My  father!  oh  my  father!"  and  making 
her  way  through  the  victims,  threw  her  arms  about  her 
parent's  neck,  and  waited  for  the  moment  of  dying 
with  him.  In  vain  were  all  threats  or  entreaties ;  neither 
the  representations  of  her  danger,  nor  the  commands  of 
her  father,  could  intimidate  her.  In  reply  to  the  latter, 
ehe  earnestly  repeated,  "  0  !  my  father,  let  me  die  with 
you  !  "  What  power  has  virtue  over  the  most  ferocious 
minds !  this  unexpected  accident  disconcerted  the  com- 
mander of  the  massacre :  —  doubtless  he  was  a  father  too  ! 
The  voice  of  admiration  and  exclamations  of  pity  which 
he  heard  from  all  sides  touched  his  heart,  and  under 
some  specious  pretext,  the  creole  was  delivered  from  the 
expected  punishment,  and,  accompanied  by  his  child,  re- 
conducted  to  prison  ;  whence  he  soon  afterwards  obtained 
his  release.  After  that  happy  escape,  he  was  often 
accustomed  to  relate,  with  feelings  of  tender  emotion,  the 
heroic  action  of  his  little  girl,  then  only  ten  years  of  age. 


SISTERLY   AFFECTION. 


KYRO   WIFE  OF  INTAPHERNES. JULIA. DUCHESS   D' ALEN^OK   — 

PRINCESS    ELIZABETH    OF    FRANCE. MADAME     MAILLE. SISTEKJ 

OF    A    FRENCH    PRISONER. HELEN    WALKER. BETY   AMBOS. 


"  Wake,  dear  remembrances !  wake,  childhood-days !  " 

COURSE  OF  TIMS. 

WOMEN  have  not  only  distinguished  themselves  by 
their  virtuous  conduct  as  mothers  and  daughters,  but 
many  admirable  traits  of  their  sisterly  affection  also 
attract  our  notice :  and  although  such  examples  are  more 
rare  of  occurrence  than  the  former,  they  are  not  the  less 
estimable. 


DEATH  OF  MYKO  AND   HER  SISTER. 

"  In  sweetest  harmony  they  lived  ! 
Nor  death  their  union  could  divide." 

"  THE  love  of  Orestes  and  Pylades,"  says  St.  Pierre 
"  who  wished  to  die  for  one  another,  is  in  my  eyes  less 
affecting  than  that  of  Myro  and  her  sister,  daughters  of 
the  tyrant  of  Eloea.  who,  though  innocent  of  their  father's 
crimes,  were  condemned  to  death  in  the  flower  of  their 
age  and  beauty,  and  entreated  each  of  the  other  to  be 
the  first  to  meet  her  end.  The  elder  had  put  her  girdle 
around  her  neck,  and  had  desired  her  younger  sister  to 
look  and  to  follow  her  example ;  when  the  latter  entreated 
her  not  to  expose  her  to  the  sorrow  of  seeing  a  sister 
expire.  On  this,  Myro  took  the  fatal  cord,  fastened  it  on 


SISTERLY    AFFECTION.  59 

the  neck  of  her  younger  sister,  and  embrac  -ig  her,  said, 
O,  my  dear  sister  !  I  have  never  refused  you  what  you 
have  asked  of  me ;  receive  this,  the  last  and  strongest 
proof  of  my  affection.'  Then,  after  seeing  her  expire, 
she  covered  her  body,  and  before  inflicting  death  on  her- 
self, she  entreated  the  spectators,  who,  notwithstanding 
their  hatred  against  tyranny,  were  melted  into  tears,  not 
to  allow  the  commission  of  any  dishonor  to  their  bodies 
After  death." 

CHOICE   OF   THE  WIFE    OF  INTAPHERNES. 

"  Another  husband,  and  another  child. 
Might  soothe  affliction  ;  but,  my  parents  dead, 
A  brother's  loss  can  never  be  repaired." 

FRANKLIN'S  SOPHOCLES. 

DAKIUS,  King  of  Persia,  extremely  provoked  by  crimes 
of  an  extraordinary  nature,  had  pronounced  a  sentence 
of  death  upon  Intaphernes,  together  with  his  children,  and 
the  whole  family  of  them  at  once.  The  wife  of  Inta- 
phernes then  was  seen  to  present  herself  before  the  royal 
palace,  exhibiting  every  demonstration  of  grief.  As  she 
regularly  continued  this  conduct,  her  frequent  appearance 
at  length  excited  the  compassion  of  Darius,  who  thus 
addressed  her  by  a  messenger  :  "  Woman,  King  Darius 
offers  you  the  liberty  of  any  individual  of  your  family 
whom  you  may  most  desire  to  preserve."  After  some 
deliberation  with  herself,  she  made  this  reply  :  "  If  the 
king  will  grant  me  the  life  of  any  one  of  my  family,  I 
choose  my  brother  in  preference  to  the  rest."  Her  deter- 
mination greatly  astonished  the  king :  he  sent  to  her, 
therefore,  a  second  message,  to  this  effect.  "  The  king 
desires  to  know  why  you  have  thought  proper  to  pass  over 
vour  children  and  your  husband,  and  to  preserve  your 


60  SISTERLY     AFFECTION. 

brother,  who  is  certainly  a  more  remote  connection  than 
your  children,  and  cannot  be  so  dear  to  you  as  your 
husband  ?  "  She  answered  thus  :  "  O  King !  if  it  please 
the  deity,  I  may  have  another  husband ;  and  if  I  be 
deprived  of  these,  may  have  other  children  ;  but  as  my 
parents  are  both  of  them  dead,  it  is  certain  that  I  can  have 
no  other  brother."  The  answer  appeared  to  Darius  very 
judicious;  indeed,  he  was  so  well  pleased  with  it,  that 
he  not  only  gave  the  woman  the  life  of  her  brother,  but 
also  pardoned  her  eldest  son :  the  rest  were  all  of  them 
put  to  death. 

However  singular  this  choice  must  appear,  from  the 
generally  admitted  fact  that  maternal  love  is  the  strongest 
attachment  of  the  human  breast,  it  must  be  allowed  that 
this  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  examples  of  sisterly 
affection  upon  record. 

SELF-DEVOTION  OF  JULIA. 

"  From  the  great, 

Illustrious  actions  are  a  debt  to  fame. 
No  middle  path  remains  for  them  to  tread, 
Whom  she  hath  once  ennobled.'' —  GLOVER 

ANTHONY,  having  made  himself  master  of  Rome 
caused  his  severe  decrees  against  the  banished  to  be 
carried  into  effect. 

Lucius  Csesar,  Anthony's  uncle,  finding  his  name  in- 
scribed on  the  fatal  list,  took  refuge  in  the  house  of  his 
sister,  Julia,  and,  as  that  lady  was  the  mother  of  Anthony, 
and  respected  by  the  soldiers  for  their  general's  sake,  he 
remained  there  for  some  time  in  security. 

Some  of  the  soldiers  were,  however,  bold  enough  to 
attempt  to  force  admission,  which  Julia  perceiving, 
appeared  at  the  door,  and  extending  her  arms  to  prevent 


SISTERLY    AFFECTION.  61 

the  assassins  from  passing,  said  to  them,  "  You  shall  not 
kill  Lucius  Caesar  till  you  have  deprived  the  mother  of 
your  general  of  life."  Accustomed  as  the  soldiers  were 
to  insolence  and  cruelty,  they  were  arrested  in  a  moment 
by  this  generous  speech,  not  daring  to  proceed. 

Julia,  then,  to  .deliver  her  brother  more  effectually  from 
danger,  went  to  the  place  where  Anthony  was  seated 
oetween  his  two  colleagues,  and  thus  addressed  him  :  —  "I 
come  to  accuse  myself  of  concealing  Lucius  Caesar ;  order 
me  to  be  put  to  death,  since  the  penalty  of  death  is  pro- 
nounced against  those  who  save  the  banished."  An- 
thony could  not  resist  so  much  greatness  of  soul ;  and 
this  intrepid  woman  succeeded  in  obtaining  for  her 
brother  an  assurance  of  complete  security. 


THE    DUCHESS  D'ALENCON. 
"  Elle  elait  vraiment  la  Marguerite  des  Marguerites."* 

MARGUERITE,  Duchess  d'Alenc^on,  entertained  towards 
ler  brother,  Francis  the  First,  King  of  France,  an/  affec- 
tion so  devoted  that  it  overlooked  all  peril. 

"  When  that  monarch  was  detained  a  prisoner  at  the 
court  of  Charles  the  Fifth,  of  Spain,  Marguerite  applied 
to  the  Emperor  for  a  safe  c6"hduct,  and  having  obtained  it, 
set  out  for  Madrid,  with  the  intention  of  consoling  her 
brother  in  his  captivity,  and  endeavoring  to  procure  his 
freedom.  Upon  her  arrival  there,  she  found  Francis  s<* 
dangerously  ill  that  his  life  was  despaired  of;  and  while 
he  thus  suffered  the  double  affliction  of  disease  and  cap- 
tivity, Marguerite  was  the  only  solace  of  the  royal 
prisoner.  Charles  had  given  the  Duchess  a  very  friendly 

*  Marguerite,  in  French,  signifies  the  pearl  or  daisy. 
6 


32  SISTERLY    AFFECTION. 

reception  at  his  court,  and  had  even  promised  that  Francis 
should  be  set  at  liberty  upon  recovering  from  his  illness  ; 
but  as  the  king's  health  daily  improved,  and  Charles' 
fears  of  losing  his  prisoner  and  his  ransom  decreased,  his 
determination  to  keep  him  in  captivity  increased  in 
proportion.  Marguerite,  perceiving  this,  endeavored  to 
form  an  acquaintance  with  the  Queen  of  Portugal,  who 
was  destined  for  Francis'  bride  ;  but  the  wary  Emperor 
frustrated  this  design,  by  inducing  his  sister  to  make  a 
pilgrimage  to  Guadaloupe,  which  occupied  the  whole 
period  of  the  Duchess'  stay  in  Spain.  She  also 
addressed  herself  to  Bourbon,  who,  it  appears,  would  not 
have  been  sorry  to  make  his  marriage  with  her  the  means 
of  restoring  him  to  his  country  and  estates  ;  but  Bourbon's 
influence  at  the  Spanish  court  was  nothing.  She  did  not 
attempt  to  discourage  any  hopes  he  might  have  formed 
on  this  head,  and  her  beauty  and  intellectual  charms  had 
given  her  so  great  a  power  over  Bourbon,  that  he  revealed 
to  her  all  he  knew  respecting  the  Emperor's  secret 
designs.  Charles,  who  suspected  the  intelligence  between 
them,  had  formed  a  scheme  worthy  of  his  intriguing 
mind.  The  Duchess'  passport  had  been  made  out  for 
two  months  ;  but  the  friendly  manner  in  which  she  had 
been  received  was  well  calculated  to  make  her  forget  that 
that  period  was  drawing  fast  to  its  conclusion,  and  that 
it  was  necessary  to  renew  it,  in  order  to  provide  for  her 
own  personal  safety.  Charles  intended  to  let  that  period 
expire,  and  then  to  have  taken  advantage  of  her  neglect, 
to  make  her  share  in  her  brother's  captivity.  The  con- 
fidence which  Marguerite  reposed  in  his  honor  would 
have  crowned  his  scheme  with  success,  but  lor  an  inti- 
mation which  Bourbon,  who  had  learned  the  treachery 
that  the  Emperor  meditated,  conveyed  to  her.  With  the 


SISTERLY   AFFECTION.  613 

utmost  precipitation,  she  ordered  her  escort,  and  having 
taken  leave  of  her  brother,  and  secured  some  papers 
which  he  committed  to  her  charge,  she  departed  from 
Madrid.  Notwithstanding  the  severity  of  the  winter, 
which  had  just  set  in,  she  traversed  Spain  with  such 
expedition  as  to  reach  the  frontier  of  Navarre  one  hour 
before  the  period  of  her  safe  conduct  had  expired." 


MARIA   HELENA  ELIZABETH. 

"  The  spider's  most  attenuated  thread 
Is  cord^is  cable,  to  marr's  tender  tie 
On  earthly  bliss  ;  it  breaks  at  every  breeze."  —  Yotms. 

THE  Princess  Maria  Helena  Elizabeth,  of  France, 
affords  us  one  of  the  finest  models  of  sisterly  affection. 
However  much  her  conduct  upon  other  occasions  may 
have  exposed  this  princess  to  the  breath  of  calumny,  her 
worst  enemies  must  unite  to  admire  and  praise  the  benev- 
olence of  her  heart,  and  her  tender  and  generous  affec- 
tion so  nobly  displayed  towards  her  brother,  Louis  the 
Sixteenth,  and  his  unhappy  queen,  during  their  misfor- 
tunes. Neither  remonstrances  nor  entreaties  could  pre- 
vail upon  her  to  abandon  them,  and  refusing  the  pressing 
solicitations  of  her  aunts  to  go  with  them  into  Italy,  she 
firmly  resolved  to  stay  with  her  brother  and  sister,  to 
partake  their  danger  and  affliction  :  her  noble  vow  was 
fulfilled  with  the  most  affecting  constancy,  during  the 
long  series  of  calamities  that  at  length  conducted  the 
heads  of  this  unfortunate  family  to  the  scaffold. 

When  the  Parisian  mob  burst  into  the  palace,  upon  the 
20th  of  June,  a  day  most  memorable  in  the  epoch  of  the 
French  Revolution,  Madame  Elizabeth  ran  into  the  King's 
ipartment.  The  mob  called  for  the  Queen,  with  loud 


64  SISTERLY  AFFECTION. 

imprecations.  "  Where,  where  is  she  ?"  they  exclaimed 
"  we  will  have  her  head  !  "  Elizabeth  turned  towards  the 
murderers,  and  said,  with  firmness,  "  I  am  the  Queen ! " 
The  terrified  attendants  hastily  pressed  forward  to  declare 
that  she  was  not  the  Queen.  "  For  the  love  of  God," 
said  the  Princess,  "  do  not  undeceive  these  men !  Is  it 
not  better  that  they  should  shed  my  blood  than  that  of 
my  sister  ?  " 

When  the  royal  family  were  prisoners  in  the  Temple, 
the  Princess  Elizabeth  endeavored  to  fortify  and  animate 
their  minds  by  the  example  of  her  resignation.  Her 
thoughts  never  appeared  to  have  herself  for  their  object, 
as  long  as  her  brother,  her  sister,  and  their  children,  re- 
mained to  be  relieved  by  her  attentions,  and  consoled  by 
her  affection  :  nor  was  it  long  after  the  melancholy  fate 
of  Louis  and  his  queen,  before  this  amiable  Princess  was 
called  upon  to  renounce  an  existence  which  had  been  so 
calamitous  to  herself  and  family. 


NOBLE    SACRIFICE    OF   A   SISTER-IN-LAW. 

"  There  's  beggary  in  the  love  that  can  be  reckoned." 

SHAKSPEARE. 

UPON  another  occasion  a  gaoler  paid  his  accustomed 
visit  to  one  of  the  prisons,  and  had  ordered  all  the  pris- 
oners to  assemble  in  the  court-yard,  in  order  that  he 
might  call  over  the  names  of  those  who  were  condemned 
to  die.  For  a  few  moments  he  contemplated  with  savage 
delight  those  who  lingered  on  the  stairs  trembling  with 
suspense,  and  others  consoling  their  weeping  children  : 
then,  with  a  loud  and  stern  voice,  he  put  an  end  to  his 
awful  silence  by  pronouncing  the  name  of  Maille.  A 
female,  instantly  advancing  through  the  crowd,  besought 


SISTERLY   AFFECTION.  65 

the  compassion  of  all  those  she  passed  for  her  orphan 
children,  and  presenting  herself  before  the  gaoler, 
demanded  if  she  was  the  condemned  person.  On  his 
referring  to  his  list  and  reading  aloud,  she  found  that 
neither  the  Christian  name,  nor  the  surname  by  which 
also  the  victim  was  described,  belonged  to  her.  Perceiv- 
ing his  mistake,  the  gaoler  hastily  interrogated  her 
concerning  the  abode  of  the  person  he  ought  to  have 
arrested.  It  was  her  sister-in-law. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  die,"  said  Madame  Maille,  "  but  I 
should  prefer  death,  a  thousand  times,  to  the  shame  of 
saving  my  life  at  the  expense  of  hers.  I  am  ready  to 
follow  you." 

Happily  fne  gaoler's  commission  did  not  extend  so  far, 
and  the  generous  woman  was  shortly  afterwards  restored 
to  her  fanny. 

LIBERATION   OF   A   PRISONER. 

"  Virtue  shall  enrol  your  names 
In  Time's  eternal  records."  —  GLOVER. 

AT  the  same  period,  the  sisters  of  a  young  man  who 
was  imprisoned  sacrificed  a  considerable  part  of  their 
fortune  to  purchase  an  opportunity  of  passing  into  their 
brother's  dungeon,  and  carried  him,  at  the  hazard  of  their 
lives,  such  instruments  as  would  enable  him  to  effect  his 
escape.  The  young  man  was  as  successful  as  bold  in  his 
enterprise,  and  with  the  assistance  of  four  of  his  com- 
panions in  misfortune,  he  and  they  passed,  undiscovered, 
from  their  dungeon.  The  sisters  had  now  a  still  more 
difficult  task,  that  of  concealing  their  brother  from  the 
diligent  search  made  after  him  by  the  government.  This 
they  achieved  with  much  ingenuity ;  and  after  a  long  in- 
terval of  alarm  and  danger,  their  affection  was  rewarded 
6* 


66  SISTERLY  AFFECTION. 

by  seeing  him  outlive  his  perils,  and  once  more  restored 
to  liberty  and  happiness. 

HEROIC  CONDUCT  OF  HELEN  WALKER. 

"  Her  cheek  was  pale  —  but  resolved  and  high 
Was  the  word  of  her  lip  and  the  glance  of  her  eye." 

SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 

THE  following  is  the  history  of  one  whose  memory  has 
been  immortalized  by  the  pen  of  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

The  real  heroine  of  the  "  Heart  of  Mid-Lothian"  was 
named  Helen  Walker :  she  was  "  the  daughter  of  a  small 
farmer  at  Irongray,  near  Dumfries,  and  after  his  death, 
continued,  with  the  unassuming  piety  of  a  Scottish  peas- 
ant, to  support  her  mother,  and  a  sister  considerably 
younger  than  herself,  by  her  own  unremitting  labor  and 
privations.  The  loss  of  her  only  remaining  parent  en- 
deared the  little  Isabella  still  more  to  Helen,  who,  per- 
forming the  various  duties  of  mother  and  sister,  contrived, 
by  her  industrious  and  affectionate  exertions,  not  only  to 
maintain  but  to  educate  her.  What  must  have  been  the 
feelings  of  Helen  when  she  learnt  that  this  only  sister,  to 
whom  she  was  attached  by  so  many  ties,  must  be  tried 
by  the  laws  of  her  country  for  child-murder,  and  when 
she  was  herself  called  upon  to  become  a  principal  witness 
against  her !  The  counsel  for  the  prisoner  informed 
Helen,  that  if  she  could  declare  that  her  sister  had  made 
any  preparations,  however  slight,  or  had  given  her  the 
slightest  intimation  on  the  subject,  such  a  statement 
would  save  her  sister's  life.  To  this  Helen's  only  answer 
was,  '  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  swear  to  a  falsehood,  and 
whatever  may  be  the  consequence,  I  will  give  my  oath 
according  to  my  conscience."  The  trial  came  on,  and 
Isabella  Walker  was  found  guilty,  and  condemned  ;  but 


SISTERLY  AFFECTION.  61 

in  Scotland  six  weeks  must  elapse  between  the  sentence 
and  the  execution  of  it :  Helen  Walker  availed  herself  of 
this  circumstance  to  endeavor  to  save  her  sister's  life. 
The  very  day  that  the  unfortunate  Isabella  was  con- 
demned to  die,  Helen  got  a  petition  drawn  up,  stating  the 
peculiar  circumstances  of  the  case,  and  the  same  night  set 
out  on  foot  for  London,  having  borrowed  a  sum  of  money 
sufficient  for  the  journey.  She  walked  the  whole  distance 
barefooted,  and  on  her  arrival  at  the  place  of  her  destina- 
tion, she  proceeded,  without  introduction  or  recommend- 
ation, to  the  house  of  the  late  John  Duke  of  Argyle. 
She  appeared  before  him  in  her  tartan  plaid  and  country 
attire,  and  preSentecWier  simple  and  perhaps  ill-expressed 
petition.  That  nobleman  immediately  procured  the 
heroic  and  affectionate  sister  the  pardon  she  sought  for, 
and  Helen  returned  with  it  just  in  time  to  save  the  life  of 
Isabella.  That  young  woman,  saved  by  the  most  unpar- 
alleled exertions  from  the  fate  which  impended  over  her, 
was  married  by  the  person  who  had  wronged  her,  and 
lived  happily  many  years,  uniformly  acknowledging  the 
affection  to  which  she  owed  her  preservation.  The 
natural  dignity  of  Helen's  character,  and  her  high  sense 
of  family  respectability,  made  her  so  indissolubly  connect 
her  sister's  disgrace  with  her  own  exertions,  that  when- 
ever her  neighbors  attempted  to  converse  with  her  on  the 
subject,  she  always  turned  the  conversation,  so  that  her 
history  was  but  little  known  :  she  was,  however,  heard  to 
say,  that  by  the  Almighty's  strength  she  had  been  enabled 
to  meet  the  Duke  at  the  most  critical  moment,  which,  if 
lost,  would  have  inevitably  caused  the  forfeiture  of  her 
>sister's  life.  The  fact  that  Isabella,  who  lived  at  White- 
haven,  was  annually  accustomed  to  send  a  cheese  to  hei 
sister,  though  trivial  in  itself,  strongly  marks  the  affec« 


68  SISTERLY    AFFECTION. 

tion  which  subsisted  between  the  two  sisters,  and  the  com 
plete  conviction  on  the  mind  of  the  criminal,  that  her 
sister  had  acted  solely  from  high  principle  and  not  from 
any  want  of  affection,  at  the  time  of  the  trial. 

"  Helen  lived  many  years  in  honest  and  industrious 
poverty,  and,  at  her  death,  was  interred  in  the  church- 
yard of  her  native  parish  of  Irongray,  in  a  romantic 
cemetery,  on  the  banks  of  the  Cairn." 

The  inscription  upon  the  tomb  of  Helen,  which  was 
subsequently  erected  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  was  as  fol- 
lows :  — 

THIS    STONE    WAS    ERECTED 
BY    THE    AUTHOR    OF    WAVERLEY, 
TO   THE    MEMORY   9k  * 

HELEN    WALKER, 

WHO    DIED    IN    THE    YEAR    OF    GOD    MDCCXCI. 

THIS     HUMBLE      INDIVIDUAL 

PRACTISED  IN  REAL  LIFE 

THE    VIRTUES 

WITH    WHICH    FICTION    HAS    INVESTED 
THE    IMAGINARY    CHARACTER   OF 

JEANIE   DEANS. 
REFUSING  THE  SLIGHTEST  DEPARTURE 

FROM  VERACITY, 

EVEN  TO  SAVE  THE  LIFE  OF  HER  SISTER  : 

SHE  NEVERTHELESS  SHOWED  HER 

KINDNESS  AND  FORTITUDE, 

IN  RESCUING  HER 

FROM  THE  SEVERITY  OF  THE  LAW, 

AT  THE  EXPENSE  OF  PERSONAL  EXERTIONS 

WHICH  THE  TIME  RENDERED  AS  DIFFICULT 

AS  THE  MOTIVE  WAS  LAUDABLE. 

RESPECT  THE  GRAVE  OF  POVERTY, 

WHEN  COMBINED  WITH  THE  LOVE  OF  IKUTI 

AND  DEAR  AFFECTION. 


SISTERLY  AFFECTION.  69 

BETY  AMBOS  VON  ZWEIBRUCKEN. 

"  And  is  not  love  in  vain 
Tenure  enough,  without  a  living  tomb  ?  "  —  BYRON. 

"  My  dearest  sister,  fare-thee-well ; 
The  elements  be  kind  to  thee,  and  make 
Thy  spirits  all  of  comfort."  —  SHAKSPEA.RE. 

MRS.  JAM-ESON,  in  her  "  Sketches  of  Art,  Literature, 
and  Character  in  Germany,"  relates  the  following  story, 
whioh  is  one  of  the  most  pathetic  and  interesting  exam- 
ples of  sisterly  affection  on  record.  I  transcribe  it  in  the 
words  of  the  fair  authoress  :  — 

"  I  was  travelling  from  Weimar  to  Frankfort,  and  had 
stopped  at  a  little  town,  one  or  two  stages  beyond  Fulda  ; 
I  was  standing  at  the  window  of  the  inn,  which  wt  s 
opposite  to  the  post-house,  and  looking  at  a  crowd  c  f 
travellers  who  had  just  been  disgorged  from  a  huge  E  1- 
wagen,  o»  post-coach,  which  was  standing  there.  Amoi  g 
them  was  one  female,  who,  before  I  was  aware,  fixed  n  y 
attention.  Although  closely  enveloped  in  a  winter  dre  *s 
from  head  to  foot,  her  height,  and  the  easy  decision  with 
which  she  moved,  showed  that  her  figure  was  fine  and 
well  proportioned  ;  and,  as  the  wind  blew  aside  her  black 
veil,  I  had  a  glimpse  of  features  which  still  further  ex- 
cited my  curiosity.  I  had  time  to  consider  her  as  she 
alighted  and  walked  over  to  the  inn  alone.  She  entered 
at  once  the  room — it  was  a  sort  of  public  saloon  —  in 
which  I  was ;  summoned  the  waiter,  whom  she  addressed 
in  a  good-humored,  but  rather  familiar  style,  and  ordered 
breakfast  •  not  a  cup  of  chocolate,  or  cafe  au  lait,  as 
became  a  heroine,  —  for  you  see  I  was  resolved  that  she 
should  be  one,  —  but  a  very  substantial  German  break- 
last —  soup,  a  cutlet,  and  a  pint  (eine  halbe  flasche)  of 
good  wine  ;  it  was  then  about  ten  o'clock.  While  thia 


70  SISTERLY   AFFECTION. 

was  preparing,  she  threw  off  her  travelling  accoutrements 
first,  a  dark  cloak,  richly  lined  with  fur ;  one  or  two 
shawls  ;  a  sort  of  pelisse,  or  rather  surtout,  reaching  to 
the  knees,  with  long  loose  sleeves,  such  as  you  may  see 
in  the  prints  of  Tartar  or  Muscovite  costumes ;  this  was 
made  of  beautiful  Indian  shawl,  lined  with  blue  silk,  and 
trimmed  with  sables  :  under  these  splendid  and  multifa- 
rious coverings  she  wore  a  dress  of  deep  mourning.  Her 
figure,  when  displayed,  excited  my  admiration ;  it  was 
one  of  the  most  perfect  I  ever  beheld.  Her  feet,  hands, 
and  head,  were  small  in  proportion  to  her  figure ;  her 
face  was  not  so  striking  —  it  was  pretty,  rather  than 
handsome ;  her  small  mouth  closed  firmly,  so  as  to  give 
a  marked  and  singular  expression  of  resolution  and  decis- 
ion to  a  physiognomy  otherwise  frank  and  good-humored. 
Her  eyes,  also  small,  were  of  a  dark  hazel,  bright,  and 
with  long  blonde  eyelashes.  Her  abundant  fair  hair  was 
plaited  in  several  bands,  and  fastened  on  the  top  of  her 
head,  in  the  fashion  of  the  German  peasant  girls.  Her 
voice  would  have  been  deemed  rather  high-pitched  for 
'  ears  polite,'  but  it  was  not  deficient  in  melody ;  and, 
though  her  expression  was  grave,  and  even  sad,  upon  our 
first  encounter,  I  soon  found  that  mirth,  and  not  sadness, 
was  the  natural  character  of  her  mind,  as  of  her  counte- 
nance. When  anything  ridiculous  occurred,  she  burst 
at  once  in  a  laugh  —  such  a  merry,  musical  peal,  that 
it  was  impossible  not  to  sympathize  in  it.  Her  whole 
appearance  and  manner  gave  me  the  idea  of  a  fanner's 
buxom  daughter :  nothing  could  be  more  distinct  from 
our  notions  of  the  lady-like,  yet  nothing  could  be  more 
free  from  impropriety,  more  expressive  of  native  inno- 
cence and  modesty ;  but  the  splendor  of  her  dress  did 
not  exactly  suit  with  her  deportment  —  it  puzzled  me. 


SISTERLY    AFFECTION.  7 

I  observed,  when  she  drew  off  her  glove,  that  she  wore 
a  number  of  silver  rings  of  a  peculiar  fashion,  and  among 
them  a  fine  diamond.  She  walked  up  and  down  while 
her  breakfast  was  preparing,  seemingly  lost  in  painful 
meditations ;  but  when  it  appeared,  she  sat  down  and 
did  justice  to  it,  as  one  who  had  been  many  hours  with- 
out food.  While  she  was  thus  engaged,  the  conducteur 
of  the  Eil-wagen,  and  one  of  the  passengers,  came  in, 
and  spoke  to  her  with  interest  and  respect.  Soon  after- 
wards came  the  mistress  of  the  inn  (who  had  never 
deigned  to  notice  me,  for  it  is  not  the  fashion  in  Ger- 
many ;)  she  came  with  an  offer  of  particular  services, 
and  from  the  conversation  I  gathered,  to  my  astonish- 
ment, that  this  young  creature  —  she  seemed  not  moro 
than  two  or  three  and  twenty  —  was  on  her  way  home, 
alone  and  unprotected,  from  —  can  you  imagine?  even 
from  the  wilds  of  Siberia  !  But  then  what  had  brought 
her  there  ?  I  listened,  in  hopes  of  discovering,  but  they 
all  spoke  so  fast  that  I  could  make  out  nothing  more. 
Afterwards,  I  had  occasion  to  go  over  to  a  little  shop  to 
make  some  purchase.  On  my  return,  I  found  her  cry- 
ing bitterly,  and  my  maid,  also  in  tears,  was  comforting 
Tier  with  great  volubility.  Now,  though  my  having  in 
German,  like  Orlando's  beard,  was  not  considerable,  and 
my  heroine  spoke  still  less  French,  I  could  not  help 
assisting  in  the  task  of  consolation  :  —  never,  certainly, 
were  my  curiosity  and  interest  more  strongly  excited. 
Subsequently,  we  met  at  Frankfort,  where  she  was 
lodged  in  the  same  hotel,  and  I  was  enabled  to  offer  her 
a  seat  in  my  vehicle  to  Mayence.  Thus,  I  had  oppor- 
tunities of  hearing  her  whole  history  related  at  different 
times,  and  in  parts  and  parcels ;  and  I  will  now  endeavor 
to  give  it  to  you  in  a  connected  form.  I  may  possibly 


*2  SISTERLY   AFFECTION. 

make  some  mistake  with  regard  to  the  order  of  events, 
but  I  promise  you  faithfully,  that  where  my  recollection 
of  names,  or  dates,  or  circumstances,  may  fail  me,  I  will 
not,  like  Mademoiselle  de  Montpensier,  make  use  of  my 
imagination  to  supply  the  defects  of  my  memory.  You 
shall  have,  if  not  the  whole  truth,  at  least  as  much  of  it 
as  I  can  remember,  and  with  no  fictitious  interpolations 
ana  improvements.  Of  the  animation  of  voice  and  man- 
ner, the  vivid  eloquence,  the  graphic  spirit,  the  quick 
transitions  of  feeling,  and  the  grace  and  vivacity  of  gest- 
ure and  action,  with  which  the  relation  was  made  to  me 
by  this  fine  untutored  child  of  nature,  I  can  give  you  no 
idea  —  it  was  altogether  a  study  of  character  I  shall 
never  forget. 

"  My  heroine  —  truly  anvi  in  every  sense  does  she 
deserve  the  name  —  was  the  daughter  of  a  rich  brewer 
and  wine-merchant  of  Deuxponts.*  She  was  one  of  five 
children,  two  much  alder  and  two  much  younger  than 
herself.  The  eldest  brother  was  called  Henri :  he  had 
early  displayed  such  uncommon  talents,  and  such  a 
decided  inclination  for  study,  that  his  father  was  deter- 
mined to  give  him  all  the  advantages  of  a  learned  edu- 
cation, and  sent  him  to  the  university  of  Elangan,  in- 
Bavaria,  whence  he  returned  to  his  family,  with  the 
highest  testimonies  of  his  talents  and  good  conduct. 
His  father  now  destined  him  for  the  clerical  profession, 
with  which  his  own  wishes  accorded.  His  sister  fondly 
dwelt  upon  his  praises,  and  described  him,  perhaps  with 
all  a  sister's  partiality,  as  being  not  only  the  pride  of  his 
family,  but  of  all  his  fellow-citizens ;  '  tall,  and  hand- 

*  In  the  German  maps,  Zweibriicken  ;  the  capital  of  those 
provinces  of  the  kingdom  of  Bavaria  which  lie  ou  the  left  bank 
if  the  Rhine. 


SISTERLY   AFFECTION.  73 

some,  and  good,'  of  a  most  benevolent,  enthusiasrie 
temper,  and  devoted  to  his  studies.  When  he  had  been 
at  home  for  some  time,  he  attracted  the  notice  of  one  of 
the  princes  in  the  north  of  Germany,  with  whom  he  trav 
elled,  1  believe,  in  the  capacity  of  secretary.  The  name 
of  the  prince,  and  the  particulars  of  this  part  of  his  life, 
have  escaped  me  ;  but  it  appeared  that,  through  the  rec- 
ommendation of  this  powerful  patron,  he  became  a  pro- 
fessor of  theology  in  a  university  of  Courland,  I  think  at 
Riga,  or  somewhere  near  it,  for  the  name  of  this  city 
was  continually  recurring  in  her  narrative.  Henri  was, 
at  this  time,  about  eight-and-twenty. 

"  While  here,  it  was  his  fate  to  fall  passionately  in 
love  with  the  daughter  of  a  rich  Jew  merchant.  His 
religious  zeal  mingled  with  his  love ;  he  was  as  anxious 
to  convert  his  mistress  as  to  possess  her  —  and,  in  fact, 
the  first  was  a  necessary  preliminary  to  the  second ;  the 
consequences  were  all  in  the  usual  style  of  such  matters. 
The  relations  discovered  the  correspondence,  and  the 
young  Jewess  was  forbidden  to  see  or  to  speak  to  her 
lover.  They  met  in  secret.  What  arguments  he  might 
use  to  convert  this  modern  Jessica,  Fknow  not ;  but  they 
prevailed.  She  declared  herself  convinced,  and  con- 
sented to  fly  with  him  beyond  the  frontiers,  into  Sile- 
sia,' to  be  baptized,  and  to  become  his  wife. 

"  Apparently  their  plans  were  not  well  arranged,  or 
were  betrayed ;  for  they  were  pursued  by  her  relations 
and  the  police,  and  overtaken  before  they  reached  the 
frontiers.  The  young  man  was  accused  of  carrying  off 
his  Jewish  love  by  force,  and  this,  I  believe,  at  Riga, 
where  the  Jews  are  protected,  is  a  capital  crime.  The 
affair  was  brought  before  the  tribunal,  and  the  accused 
defended  himself  by  declaring  that  the  girl  had  fled  with 
7 


<4  SISTERLY   AFFECTION. 

him  by  her  own  free  will;  that  she  was  a  Christian,  ant, 
his  betrothed  bride,  as  they  had  exchanged  rings,*or  had 
gone  through  some  similar  ceremony.  The  father  Jew 
denied  this  on  the  part  of  his  daughter,  and  Henri 
desired  to  be  confronted  with  the  lady,  who  was  thus 
said  lo  have  turned  his  accuser.  Her  family  made 
many  difficulties,  but  by  the  order  of  the  judge  she  was 
obliged  to  appear.  She  was  brought  into  the  court  of 
justice  pale,  trembling,  and  supported  by  her  father  and 
others  of  her  kindred.  The  judge  demanded  whether  it 
was  by  her  own  will  that  she  had  fled  with  Henri 
Ambos  ?  She  answered,  in  a  faint  voice,  '  No.'  Had 
then  violence  been  used  to  carry  her  off?  'Yes.'  Was 
she  a  Christian  ?  '  No.'  D;d  she  regard  Henri  as  her 
affianced  husband  ?  '  No.' 

"  On  hearing  these  replies,  so  different  from  the  truth 
—  from  all  he  could  have  anticipated  —  the  unfortunate 
young  man  appeared  for  a  few  minutes  stupefied ;  then, 
as  if  seized  with  a  sudden  frenzy,  he  made  a  desperate 
effort  to  rush  upon  the  young  Jewess.  On  being  pre- 
vented, he  drew  a0  knife  from  his  pocket,  which  he 
attempted  to  plunge  into  his  own  bosom,  but  it  was 
wrested  from  him ;  in  the  scuffle  he  was  wounded  in  the 
hands  and  face,  and  the  young  lady  swooned  away. 
The  sight  of  his  mistress  insensible,  and  his  own  blood 
flowing,  restored  the  lover  to  his  senses.  He  became 
sullenly  calm,  offered  not  another  word  in  his  own 
defence,  refused  to  answer  any  questions,  and  was  im- 
mediately conveyed  to  prison. 

"  These  particulars  came  to  the  knowledge  of  his 
family  after  the  lapse  of  many  months,  but  of  his  subse- 
quent fate  they  could  learn  nothing.  Neither  his  sen- 
tence nor  his  punishment  could  be  ascertained;  and 


SISTERLY   AFFECTION,  7d 

although  one  of  his  relations  went  to  Riga,  for  the  pur 
pose  of  obtaining  some  information  —  some  redress,  h* 
returned  without  having  effected  either  of  the  purposes 
of  his  journey  Whether  Henri  had  died  of  his  wounds, 
or  languished  in  a  perpetual  dungeon,  remained  a 
mystery. 

"  Six  years  thus  passed  away.  His  father  died;  his 
mother,  who  persisted  in  hoping,  while  all  others  de- 
spaired, lingered  on  in  heart- wearing  suspense.  At 
length,  in  the  beginning  of  last  year,  (1833,)  a  travelling 
merchant  passed  through  the  city  of  Deuxponts,  and 
inquired  for  the  family  of  Arnbos.  He  informed  them 
that  in  the  preceding  year  he  had  seen  and  spoken  to  a 
man  in  rags,  with  a  long  beard,  who  was  working  .  a 
fetters  with  other  criminals,  near  the  fortress  of  Barinsk  v, 
in  Siberia ;  who  described  himself  as  Henri  Ambos.  a 
pastor  of  the  Lutheran  church,  unjustly  condemned,  a:  id 
besought  him,  with  tears  and  the  most  urgent  supj  Li- 
cations,  to  convey  some  tidings  of  him  to  his  unhap  \y 
parents,  and  beseech  them  to  use  every  means  to  obtain 
his  liberation. 

"You  must  imagine — for  I  cannot  describe  as  she 
described  —  the  feelings  which  this  intelligence  excited. 
A  family  council  was  held,  and  it  was  determined  at 
once  that  application  should  be  made  to  the  police 
authorities  at  St.  Petersburg!),  to  ascertain  beyond  a 
doubt  the  fate  of  poor  Henri  —  that  a  petition  in  his 
favor  must  be  presented  to  the  Emperor  of  Russia;  but 
who  was  to  present  it?  The  second  brother  offered 
himself,  but  he  had  a  wife  and  two  children  ;  the  wife 
protested  that  she  should  die  if  her  husband  left  her,  and 
would  not  hear  of  his  going ;  besides,  he  was  the  only 
remaining  hope  of  his  mother's  family.  The  sister  then 


76  SISTERLY   AFFECTIOIf. 

said  that  she  would  undertake  the  journey,  and  argued 
that  as  a  woman  she  had  more  chance  of  success  in  such 
an  affair  than  her  brother.  The  mother  acquiesced. 
There  was,  in  truth,  no  alternative;  and  being  amply 
furnished  with  the  means,  this  generous,  affectionate, 
and  strong-minded  girl,  set  off  alone  on  her  long  and 
perilous  journey.  '  When  my  mother  gave  me  her  bless- 
ing,' said  she,  '  I  made  a  vow  to  God  and  my  own 
heart,  that  I  would  not  return  alive  without  the  pardon 
of  my  brother!  I  feared  nothing;  I  had  nothing  to  live 
for.  I  had  health  and  strength,  and  I  had  not  a  doubt  of 
my  own  success,  because  I  was  resolved  to  succeed ;  bul 
ah !  liebe  Madame !  what  a  fate  was  mine !  and  how  am 
I  returning  to  my  mother!  —  my  poor  old  mother!' 
Here  she  burst  into  tears,  and  threw  herself  back  in  the 
carriage ;  after  a  few  minutes,  she  resumed  her  narrative. 
"  She  reached  the  city  of  Riga  without  mischance. 
There  she  collected  the  necessary  documents  relative  to 
her  brother's  character  and  conduct,  with  all  the  circum- 
stances of  his  trial,  and  had  them  properly  attested. 
Furnished  with  these  papers,  she  proceeded  to  St. 
Petersburgh,  where  she  arrived  safely  in  the  beginning 
of  June,  1833.  She  had  been  furnished  with  several 
letters  of  recommendation,  and  particularly  with  one  to 
a  German  ecclesiastic,  of  whom  she  spoke  with  the  most 
grateful  enthusiasm,  by  the  title  of  M.  le  Pasteur.  She 
met  with  the  utmost  difficulty  in  obtaining  from  the 
police  the  official  return  of  her  brother's  condemnation, 
place  of  exile,  punishment,  &c. ;  but  at  length,  by  almost 
incredible  boldness,  perseverance,  and  address,  she  was 
in  possession  of  these,  and  with  the  assistance  of  her 
good  friend  the  pastor,  she  drew  up  a  petition  to  tho 
emperor.  With  this  she  waited  on  the  minister  of  the 


SISTERLY   AFFECTION.  TV 

interior,  to  whom,  with  great  difficulty,  and  after  many 
applications,  she  obtained  access.  He  treated  her  with 
great  harshness,  and  absolutely  refused  to  deliver  the 
petition.  She  threw  herself  on  her  knees,  and  added 
tears  to  entreaties ;  but  he  was  inexorable,  and  added, 
brutally,  — '  Your  brother  was  a  mauvais  sujet ;  he  ought 
not  to  be  pardoned,  and  if  I  were  the  emperor  I  would  not 
pardon  him.'  She  rose  from  her  knees,  and  stretching 
her  arms  towards  heaven,  exclaimed,  with  fervor,  — '  I 
call  God  to  witness  that  my  brother  was  innocent !  and  1 
thank  God  that  you  are  not  the  emperor,  for  I  can  still 
hope  ! '  The  minister,  in  a  rage,  said,  '  Do  you  dare  to 
speak  thus  to  me  ?  Do  you  know  who  I  am  ? '  '  Yes,' 

she  replied  ;  '  you  are  his  excellency  the  minister  C ; 

but  what  of  that  ?  you  are  a  cruel  man  !  but  I  put  my 
trust  in  God  and  the  emperor;'  'and  then,'  said  she,  'I 
left  him,  without  even  a  curtsey,  though  he  followed  me 
to  the  door,  speaking  very  loud  and  very  angrily.' 

"  Her  suit  being  rejected  by  all  the  ministers,  (for  even 
those  who  were  most  gentle,  and  who  allowed  the  hard- 
ships of  the  case,  still  refused  to  interfere,  or  deliver  her 
petition,)  she  resolved  to  do,  what  she  had  been  dis- 
suaded from  attempting  in  the  first  instance  —  to  appeal 
to  the  emperor  in  person  :  but  it  was  in  vain  she  lavished 
hundreds  of  dollars  in  bribes  to  the  inferior  officers;  in 
vain  she  beset  the  imperial  suite,  at  reviews,  at  the 
theatre,  on  the  way*to  the  church :  invariably  beaten 
back  by  the  guards,  or  the  attendants,  she  could  not  pen- 
etrate to  the  emperor's  presence.  After  spending  six 
weeks  in  daily  ineffectual  attempts  of  this  kind,  hoping 
every  morning,  and  almost  despairing  every  evening  — • 
threatened  by  the  police,  and  spurned  by  the  officials  — 
Providence  raised  her  up  a  friend  in  one  of  her  own  sex. 


78  SISTERLY   AFFECTION. 

Among  some  ladies  of  rank,  who  became  interested  in 
her  story,  and  invited  her  to  their  houses,  was  a 
Countess  Elise  —  something  or  other,  whose  name  I  am 
sorry  I  did  not  write  down.  One  day,  on  seeing  her 
young  protegee  overwhelmed  with  grief,  and  almost  in 
despair,  she  said,  with  emotion, ( I  cannot  dare  to  present 
your  petition  myself;  I  might  be  sent  off  to  Siberia,  or 
at  least  banished  the  court ;  but  all  I  can  do,  I  will.  1 
will  lend  you  my  equipage  and  servants.  I  will  dress 
you  in  one  of  my  robes ;  you  shall  drive  to  the  palace 
the  next  levee  day,  and  obtain  an  audience  under  my 
name ;  when  once  in  the  presence  of  the  emperor,  you 
must  manage  for  yourself.  If  I  risk  thus  much,  will  you 
venture  the  rest?'  'And  what,'  said  I,  'was  your 
answer  ?'  '  Oh ! '  she  replied,  '  I  could  not  answer ;  but 
I  threw  myself  at  her  feet,  and  kissed  the  hem  of  her 
gown.'  I  asked  her  whether  she  had  not  feared  to  risk 
the  safety  of  her  generous  friend  ?  She  replied,  '  That 
thought  did  strike  me  —  but  what  would  you  have?  — 
I  cast  it  from  me.  I  was  resolved  to  have  my  brother's 
pardon — I  would  have  sacrificed  my  own  life  to  obtain 
it  —  and,  God  forgive  me!  I  thought  little  of  what  it 
might  cost  another.' 

"  This  plan  was  soon  arranged,  and  at  the  time  ap- 
pointed my  resolute  heroine  drove  up  to  the  palace  in  a 
splendid  equipage,  preceded  by  a  running  footman,  with 
three  laced  lackeys  in  full  dress  mounted  behind.  She 
was  announced  as  the  Countess  Elise ,  who  suppli- 
cated a  particular  audience  of  his  majesty.  The  doors 
flew  open,  and  in  a  few  minutes  she  was  in  the  presence 
of  the  emperor,  who  advanced  one  or  two  steps  to  meet 
her,  with  an  air  of  gallantry,  but  suddenly  started  back. 


SISTERLY  AFFECTION.  79 

Here  I  could  not  help  asking  her,  whether,  in  that 
moment,  she  did  not  feel  her  heart  sink  ? 

" «  No,'  said  she,  firmly ;  '  on  the  contrary,  I  felt  my 
heart  beat  quicker  and  higher !  —  I  sprang  forward  and 
knelt  at  his  feet,  exclaiming,  with  clasped  hands  —  "  Par- 
don, imperial  ^  majesty!  pardon!"  "Who  are  you?" 
said  the  emperor,  astonished,  "  and  what  can  I  do  for 
you  ?  "  He  spoke  gently,  more  gently  than  any  of  his 
ministers,  and  overcome  even  by  my  own  hopes,  I  burst 
into  a  flood  of  tears,  and  —  "  May  it  please  your  imperial 

majesty,  I  am  not  Countess  Elise ,1  am  only  the 

sister  of  the  unfortunate  Henri  Ambos,  who  has  been  con- 
demned on  false  accusation.  O  pardon  !  pardon !  Here 
are  the  papers  —  the  proofs.  O  imperial  majesty,  par- 
don my  poor  brother  ! "  I  held  out  the  petition  and  the 
papers,  and  at  the  same  time,  prostrate  on  my  knees,  I 
seized  the  skirt  of  his  embroidered  coat,  and  pressed  it  to 
my  lips.  The  emperor  said,  "  Rise,  rise  !  "  but  I  would 
not  rise  ;  I  still  held  out  my  papers,  resolved  not  to  rise 
till  he  had  taken  them.  At  last,  the  emperor,  who  seemed 
much  moved,  extended  one  hand  towards  me,  and  took 
the  papers  with  the  other,  saying  —  "  Rise,  mademoiselle, 
I  command  you  to  rise."  I  ventured  to  kiss  his  hand, 
and  said,  with  tears,  "  I  pray  of  your  majesty  to  read  that 
paper."  He  said,  "  I  will  read  it."  I  then  rose  from  the 
ground,  and  stood  watching  him  while  he  unfolded  the 
petition  and  read  it.  His  countenance  changed,  and  he 
exclaimed,  once  or  twice,  "  Is  it  possible  ?  This  is  dread- 
ful !  '  When  he  had  finished,  he  folded  the  paper,  and 
without  any  observation,  said  at  once,  "  Mademoiselle 
Ambos,  your  brother  is  pardoned."  The  words  rung  in 
my  ears,  and  I  again  flung  myself  at  his  feet,  saying  — 
and  yet  I  scarce  know  what  I  said  —  "Your  imperia. 


80  SISTERLY   AFFECTION. 

majesty  is  a  god  upon  earth ;  do  you  indeed  pardon  my 
brother  ?  Your  ministers  would  never  suffer  me  to  ap- 
proach you ;  and  even  yet  I  fear !  "  He  said, "  Fear 

nothing:  you  have  my  promise."  He  then  raised  me 
from  the  ground,  and  conducted  me  himself  to  the  door 
I  tried  to  thank  and  bless  him,  but  could  not;  he  held 
out  his  hand  for  me  to  kiss,  and  then  bowed  his  head  as 
I  left  the  room.  Ach  ja  !  the  emperor  is  a  good  man, — 
ein  schoner,  feiner,  Mann !  but  he  does  not  know  how 
cruel  his  ministers  are,  and  all  the  evil  they  do,  and  all 
the  justice  they  refuse,  in  his  name ! ' 

"  I  have  given  you  this  scene  as  nearly  as  possible  in 
her  own  words.  £>he  not  only  related  it,  but  almost 
acted  it  over  again ;  she  imitated,  alternately,  her  own 
and  the  emperor's  voice  and  manner ;  and  such  was  the 
vivacity  of  her  description,  that  I  seemed  to  hear  and 
behold  both,  and  was  more  profoundly  moved  than  by 
any  scenic  representation  I  can  remember. 

"  On  her  return,  she  received  the  congratulations  of 
her  benefactress,  the  Countess  Elise,  and  of  her  good 
friend  the  pastor,  but  both  advised  her  to  keep  her  audi- 
ence and  the  emperor's  promise  a  profound  secret.  She 
was  the  more  inclined  to  this,  because,  after  the  first 
burst  of  joyous  emotion,  her  spirits  sank.  Recollecting 
the  pains  that  had  been  taken  to  shut  her  from  the  empe- 
ror's presence,  she  feared  some  unforeseen  obstacle,  or 
even  some  knavery  on  the  part  of  the  officers  of  govern- 
ment. She  described  her  sufferings  during  the  next 
few  days  as  fearful;  her  agitation,  her  previous  fatigues, 
and  the  terrible  suspense,  apparently  threw  her  into  a 
fever,  or  acted  on  her  excited  nerves  so  as  to  produce  a 
species  of  delirium,  though,  of  course,  she  would  not 
admit  this.  After  assuring  me  very  gravely  that  she 


SISTERLY   AFFECTION.  81 

did  not  believe  in  ghosts,  she  told  me  that  one  night,  aftel 
her  interview  with  the  emperor,  she  was  reading  in  bedv 
being  unable  to  sleep ;  and  on  raising  her  eyes  from  her 
book  she  saw  the  figure  of  her  brother,  standing  at  the 
other  end  of  the  room  ;  she  exclaimed,  '  My  God,  Henri '. 
Is  that  you  ? '  but  without  making  any  reply,  the  form 
approached  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  bed,  keeping  its 
melancholy  eyes  fixed  on  hers,  till  it  came  quite  close  to 
the  bedside,  and  laid  a  cold,  heavy  hand  upon  her. 
Without  doubt  it  was  the  nightmare  ;  but  her  own  im- 
pression was  as  of  a  reality.  The  figure,  after  looking 
at  her  sadly  for  some  minutes,  during  which  she  had  no 
power  either  to  move  or  speak,  turned  away ;  she  then 
made  a  desperate  effort  to  call  out  to  the  daughter  of  her 
hostess,  who  slept  in  the  next  room  — '  Luise  !  Luise  ! ' 
Luise  ran  in  to  her.  '  Do  you  not  see  my  brother  stand- 
ing there  ?'  she  exclaimed,  with  horror,  and  pointing  to 
the  other  end  of  the  room,  \jjhither  the  image  conjured 
up  by  her  excited  fancy  and  fevered  nerves  appeared  to 
have  receded.  The  frightened,  staring  Luise  answered, 
'  Yes.'  «  You  see, '  said  she,  appealing  to  me,  '  that 
though  I  might  be  cheated  by  my  own  senses,  I  could 
not  doubt  those  of  another.  I  thought  to  myself,  then, 
my  poor  Henri  is  dead,  and  God  has  permitted  him  to 
visit  me.  This  idea  pursued  me  all  that  night,  and  the 
next  day ;  but  on  the  following  day,  which  was  Monday, 
just  five  days  after  I  had  seen  the  emperor,  a  laquais,  in 
the  imperial  livery,  came  to  my  lodging,  and  put  into 
my  hands  a  packet,  with  the  "  Emperor's  compliments  to 
Mademoiselle  Ambos."  It  was  the  pardon  for  my  brother, 
with  the  emperor's  seal  and  signature :  then  I  forgot 
everything  but  joy ! ' 

"  Those  mean,  official  animals,  who  had  before  spurned 


82  SISTERLY   AFFECTION. 

her.  now  pressed  upon  her  with  offers  of  service,  and 

even  the  minister  C offered  to  expedite  the  pardon 

himself  to  Siberia,  in  order  to  sate  her  trouble  ;  but  she 
would  not  suffer  the  precious  paper  out  of  her  hands  : 
she  determined  to  carry  it  herself — to  be  herself  the 
bearer  of  gl&d  tidings  :  she  had  resolved  that  none  but 
herself  should  take  off  those  fetters,  the  very  description 
of  which  had  entered  her  soul ;  so,  having  made  her 
arrangements  as  quickly  as  possible,  she  set  off  for 
Moscow,  where  she  arrived  in  three  days.  According  to 
her  description,  the  town  in  Siberia,  to  the  governor  of 
which  she  carried  an  official  recommendation,  was  nine 
thousand  versts  beyond  Moscow;  and  the  fortress  to 
which  the  wretched  malefactors  were  exiled  was  at  a 
great  distance  beyond  that.  I  could  not  well  make  out 
the  situation  of  either,  and,  unluckily,  I  had  no  map  with 
me  but  a  road  map  of  Germany,  and  it  was  evident  that 
my  heroine  was  no  geographer.  She  told  me  that,  after 
leaving  Moscow,  she  travelled  post  seven  days  and  seven 
nights,  only  sleeping  in  the  carriage.  She  then  reposed 
for  two  days,  and  then  posted  on  for  another  seven  days 
and  nights  alone  and  wholly  unprotected,  except  by  her 
own  innocence  and  energy,  and  a  few  lines  of  recpm- 
mendation,  which  had  been  given  to  her  at  St.  Peters- 
burgh.  The  roads  were  everywhere  excellent,  the  post- 
houses  at  regular  distances,  the  travelling  rapid ;  but 
often,  for  hundreds  of  miles,  there  were  no  accommo- 
Jations  of  any  kind  —  scarce  a  human  habitation.  She 
jven  suffered  from  hunger,  not  being  prepared  to  travel 
for  so  many  hours  together  without  meeting  with  any 
food  she  could  touch  without  disgust.  She  described, 
with  great  truth  and  eloquence,  her  own  sensations  as 
ahe  was  whirled  rapidly  over  those  wide,  silent,  soJ;tary 


SISTERLY    AFFECTION.  83 

and  apparently  endless  plains.  '  Sometimes,'  said  she, 
1  my  head  seemed  to  turn  —  I  could  not  believe  that  it  was 
a  waking  reality  —  I  could  not  believe  that  it  was  myself. 
Alone,  in  a  strange  land,  —  so  many  hundred  leagues 
from  my  own  home,  and  driven  along  as  if  through  the 
air,  with  a  rapidity  so  different  from  anything  I  had  been 
used  to,  that  it  almost  took  away  my  breath.'  '  Did  you 
ever  feel  fear  ?  '  I  asked.  '  Ach  ja  !  when  I  waked  some- 
times in  the  carriage,  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  wonder- 
ing at  myself,  and  unable  immediately  to  collect  my 
thoughts.  Never  at  any  other  time.'  I  asked  her  if  she 
had  ever  met  with  insult  ?  She  said  she  had  twice  met 
with  '  wicked  men ; '  but  she  had  felt  no  alarm  —  she 
knew  how  to  protect  herself ;  and  as  she  said  this,  her 
countenance  assumed  an  expression  which  showed  that 
it  was  not  a  mere  boast.  Altogether,  she  described  her 
journey  as  being  grausam  (horrible)  in  the  highest 
degree,  and,  indeed,  even  the  recollection  of  it  made  her 
shudder ;  but  at  the  time  there  was  the  anticipation  of 
an  unspeakable  happiness,  which  made  all  fatigues  light 
and  all  dangers  indifferent. 

"At  length,  in  the  beginning  of  August,  she  arrived 
at  the  end  of  her  journey,  and  was  courteously  received 
by  the  commandant  of  the  fortress.  She  presented  the 
pardon  with  a  hand  which  trembled  with  impatience  and 
joy,  too  great  to  be  restrained,  almost  to  be  borne.  The 
officer  looked  very  grave,  and  took,  she  thought,  a  long 
time  to  read  the  paper,  which  consisted  only  of  six  or 
eight  lines,  At  last,  he  stammered  out,  'I  am  sorry  — 
but  the  Henri  Ambos  mentioned  in  this  paper — is  dead ! ' 
Poor  girl !  she  fell  to  the  earth. 

"  When  she  reached  this  part  of  her  story,  she  burst 
into  a  fresh  flood  of  tears,  wrung  her  hands,  and  for 


64  SISTERLY  AFFECTION. 

some  time  could  alter  nothing  but  passionate  exclama* 
tions  of  grief.  '  Ach !  Hebe  Gott !  was  fur  ein  schrechlich 
shichsal  was  das  meine ! '  '  What  a  horrible  fate  was 
mine  !  I  had  come  thus  far  to  find  —  not  my  brother  — 
nur  ein  Grab ! '  (only  a  grave  !)  she  repeated  several 
times,  with  an  accent  of  despair.  The  unfortunate  man 
had  died  a  year  before.  The  fetters  in  which  he  worked 
had  caused  an  ulcer  in  his  leg,  which  he  neglected,  and, 
after  some  weeks  of  horrid  suffering,  death  released  him. 
The  task-work,  for  nearly  five  years,  of  this  accomplished, 
and  even  learned  man,  in  the  prime  of  his  life  and  men- 
tal powers,  had  been  to  break  stones  upon  the  road, 
chained  hand  and  foot,  and  confounded  with  the  lowest 
malefactors. 

"  I  have  not  much  more  to  tell.  She  found,  on  inquiry, 
that  some  papers  and  letters,  which  her  unhappy  brother 
had  drawn  up  by  stealth,  in  the  hope  of  being  able  at 
some  time  to  convey  them  to  his  friends,  were  in  the 
possession  of  one  of  the  officers,  who  readily  gave  them 
up. to  her;  and  with  these  she  returned,  half  broken- 
hearted, to  St.  Petersburgh.  If  her  former  journey, 
when  hope  cheered  her  on  the  way,  had  been  so  fearful, 
what  must  have  been  her  return  !  I  was  not  surprised 
to  hear  that,  on  her  arrival,  she  was  seized  with  a  dan- 
gerous illness,  and  was  for  *nany  weeks  confined  to  her 
bed. 

"  Her  story  excited  much  commiseration,  and  a  very 
general  interest  and  curiosity  was  excited  about  herself. 
She  told  me  that  a  great  many  persons  of  rank  invited 
her  to  their  houses  and  made  her  rich  presents,  among 
which  were  the  splendid  shawls  and  the  ring,  which  had 
caught  my  attention,  and  excited  my  surprise,  in  the  first 
instance.  The  emperor  expressed  a  wish  to  see  her,  and 


SISTERLY   AFFECTION.  85 

very  graciously  spoke  a  few  words  of  condolence.     '  But 
they  could  not  bring  my  brother  back  to  life  ! '  said  she, 
expressively.     He  even  presented  her  to  the  empress. 
'And  what,'  I  asked,  'did  the  empress  say  to  you? 
'  Nothing  ;  but  she  looked  so '  —  drawing  herself  up. 

"  On  receiving  her  brother's  pardon  from  the  emperor, 
she  had  written  home  to  her  family ;  but  she  confessed 
that  since  that  time  she  had  not  written  —  she  had  not 
courage  to  inflict  a  blow  which  might  possibly  affect  her 
mother's  life ;  and  yet  the  idea  of  being  obliged  to  tell 
what  she  dared  not  write,  seemed  to  strike  her  with 
terror. 

"  But  the  strangest  event  of  this  strange  story  remains 
to  be  told  ;  and  I  will  try  to  give  it  in  her  own  simple 
words.  She  left  Petersburgh  in  October,  and  proceeded 
to  Riga,  where  those  who  had  known  her  brother  received 
her  with  interest  and  kindness,  and  sympathized  in  her 
affliction.  '  But,'  said  she,  '  there  was  one  thing  I  had 
resolved  to  do  which  yet  remained  undone.  I  was 
resolved  to  see  the  woman  who  had  been  the  original 
cause  of  all  my  poor  brother's  misfortunes.  I  thought 
if  once  I  could  say  to  her,  "  Your  falsehood  has  done 
this  !  "  I  should  be  satisfied ;  but  my  brothers  friends 
dissuaded  me  from  this  idea.  They  said  it  was  better 
not ;  that  it  could  do  my  poor  Henri  no  good ;  that  it 
was  wrong ;  that  it  was  unchristian ;  and  I  submitted. 
I  left  Riga  with  a  voiturier.  I  had  reached  Pojer,  on  tne 
Prussian  frontiers,  and  there  I  stopped  at  the  Douane,  to 
have  my  packages  searched.  The  chief  officer  looked 
at  the  address  on  my  trunk,  and  exclaimed,  with  surprise, 
'  Mademoiselle  Ambos !  are  you  any  relation  of  the 
Professor  Henri  Ambos  ?  "  "I  am  his  sister."  "  Good 
God !  I  was  the  intimate  friend  of  your  brother !  "What 
8 


86  SISTERLY   AFFECTION. 

has  become  of  him  ?  "  I  then  told  him  all  1  have  now 
told  you,  Hebe  madame!  —  and  when  I  came  to  an  end, 
this  good  man  burst  into  tears,  and  for  some  time  we 
wept  together.  The  kutscher,  (driver,)  who  was  standing 
by,  heard  all  this  conversation,  and  when  I  turned  round, 
he  Avas  crying  too.  My  brother's  friend  pressed  on  me 
offers  of  service  and  hospitality,  but  I  could  not  delay ; 
for,  besides  that  my  impatience  to  reach  home  increased 
every  hour,  I  had  not  much 'money  in  my  purse.  Of 
three  thousand  dollars,  which  I  had  taken  with  me  to  St. 
Petersburgh,  very  little  remained  ;  so  I  bade  him  farewell, 
and  I  proceeded.  At  the  next  town,  where  my  kutscher 
stopped  to  feed  his  horses,  he  came  to  the  door  of  my 
caleche,  and  said,  "  You  have  just  missed  seeing  the  Jew 
lady,  whom  your  brother  was  in  love  with  ;  that  caleche 
which  passed  us  by  just  now,  and  changed  horses  here, 

contained  Mademoiselle  S ,  her  sister,  and  her  sister's 

husband  !  "  Good  God  !  imagine  my  surprise  !  I  could 
not  believe  my  fortune :  it  seemed  that  Providence  had 
delivered  her  into  my  hands,  and  I  was  resolved  that  she 
should  not  escape  me.  I  knew  they  would  be  delayed 
at  the  custom-house.  I  ordered  the  man  to  turn,  and 
drive  back  as  fast  as  possible,  promising  him  a  reward 
of  a  dollar  if  he  overtook  them.  On  reaching  the  cus- 
tom-house, I  saw  a  caleche  standing  at  a  little  distance. 
I  felt  myself  tremble,  and  my  heart  beat  so  —  but  not 
with  fear.  I  went  up  to  the  caleche  —  two  ladies  were 
sitting  in  it.  I  addressed  the  one  who  was  the  most 
beautiful,  and  said,  "  Are  you  Mademoiselle  Emilie 

S ?  "    I  suppose  I  must  have  looked  very  strange, 

and  wild,  and  resolute,  for  she  replied,  with  a  frightened 
manner  —  "  I  am  ;  who  are  you,  and  what  do  you  want 
with  me  ?  "  I  said,  "  I  am  the  sister  of  Henri  Ambos, 


SISTERLY   AFFECTION.  87 

whom  you  murdered  !  "  She  shrieked  out ;  the  men 
came  running  from  the  house ;  but  I  held  fast  the  car- 
riage-door, and  said,  "  I  am  not  come  to  hurt  you,  but 
you  are  the  murderess  of  my  brother,  Henri  Ambos.  He 
loved  you,  and  your  falsehood  has  killed  him.  May  God 
punish  you  for  it !  May  his  ghost  pursue  you  to  the 
end  of  your  life  !  "  I  remember  no  more.  I  was  like 
one  mad.  I  have  just  a  recollection  of  her  ghastly,  ter- 
rified look,  and  her  eyes  wide  open,  staring  at  me.  I 
fell  into  fits  ;  and  they  carried  me  into  the  house  of  my 
brother's  friend,  and  laid  me  on  a  bed.  When  I  recov- 
ered my  senses,  the  caleche  and  all  were  gone.  When  I 
reached  Berlin,  all  this  appeared  to  me  so  miraculous  — 
so  like  a  dream  —  I  could  not  trust  to  my  own  recollec- 
tion, and  I  wrote  to  the  officer  of  customs,  to  beg  he 
would  attest  that  it  was  really  true,  and  what  I  had  said 
when  I  was  out  of  my  senses,  and  what  she  had  said  ; 
and  at  Leipsic  I  received  his  letter,  which  I  will  show 
you.'  And  at  Mayence  she  showed  me  this  letter,  and 
a  number  of  other  documents ;  her  brother's  pardon, 
with  the  emperor's  signature ;  a  letter  of  the  Countess 

Elise ;  a  most  touching  letter  from  her  unfortunate 

brother  (over  this  she  wept  much;)  and  a  variety  of 
other  papers,  all  proving  the  truth  of  her  story,  even  to 
the  minutest  particulars.  The  next  morning  we  were  to 
part.  I  was  going  down  the  Rhine,  and  she  was  to  pro- 
ceed to  Deuxponts,  which  she  expected  to  reach  in  two 
days.  As  she  had  travelled  from  Berlin  almost  without 
rest,  except  the  night  we  had  spent  at  Frankfort,  she 
appeared  to  me  ready  to  sink  with  fatigue ;  but  she 
would  not  bid  me  farewell  that  night,  although  I  told  her 
I  should  be  obliged  to  set  off  at  six  the  next  morning  ; 
but  kissing  my  hand,  with  many  expressions  of  gratitude 


83  SISTERLY   AFFECTION. 

she  said  she  would  be  awake  and  visit  me  in  my  room 
to  bid  me  a  last  adieu.  As  there  was  only  a  very  nar- 
row passage  between  the  two  rooms,  she  left  her  door  a 
little  open,  that  she  might  hear  me  rise.  However,  on 
the  following  morning,  she  did  not  appear.  Wher 
dressed,  I  went  on  tiptoe  into  her  room,  and  found  her 
lying  in  a  deep,  calm  sleep,  her  arm  over  her  head.  I 
looked  at  her  for  some  minutes,  and  thought  I  had  never 
seen  a  finer  creature.  I  then  turned,  with  a  whispered 
blessing  and  adieu,  and  went  on  my  way. 

"  This  is  all  I  can  tell  you.  If  at  the  time  I  had  not 
been  travelling  against  time,  and  with  a  mind  most  fully 
and  painfully  occupied,  I  believe  I  should  have  been 
tempted  to  accompany  my  heroine  to  Deuxponts  —  at  least 
I  should  have  retained  her  narrative  more  accurately. 
Not  having  made  any  memoranda  till  many  days  after- 
wards, all  the  names  have  escaped  my  recollection  ;  but 
if  you  have  any  doubts  of  the  general  truth  of  this  story, 
I  will  at  least  give  you  the  means  of  verifying  it.  Here 
is  her  name,  in  her  own  handwriting,  on  one  of  the  leaves 
of  my  pocket-book  —  you  can  read  the  German  character  : 

Slmbos  con 


*  "  Sketches  of  Art,  Literature,  and  Character  in  Germaay," 
by  Mrs. 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION. 


IHELONIS. THESTA. ANTONIA     FLAXILLA,     EGNATIA     MAXIMILLA, 

SULPITIA,     FANNIA. TURIA. DtJCHESS     OF     BAVARIA. QUEER 

ELEANOR. BARONESS  VON   DER   WART. BONA    LONGABARBA. — 

VENETIAN    LU)Y. DUCHESS    D'EPERNON. ELEANOR    CHRISTINA. 

LADY     RALEIGH. LADY     FANSHAWE. MRS.    HUTCHINSON. 

LADY  RUSSEL. WIFE  OF    MILTON. COUNTESS  OF  NITHSDALE. — 

MADAME  MUNICH. CATHERINE  HERMAN. AFFECTING  CONSTANCY. 

LADY  HARRIET  ACKLAND. YOUNG  FRENCH-WOMAN. MADAME 

iAVERGNE. WIFE   OF    A     PRISONER. MADAME    LEFORT. SIS 

GULAR    EXPEDIENT. MADAME     LAVALETTE. COUNTESS     CONFA 

LIONERI. 


"  Hail,  wedded  love  !  "  — MILTON. 

HISTORY,  in  recording  the  deeds  of  women,  bears  ample 
testimony  to  their  conjugal  affection  ;  and  it  is  pleasing 
to  dwell  on  such  sublime  and  illustrious  examples  of 
virtue,  as  they  form  a  striking  contrast  to  those  instances 
which  too  frequently  occur  of  the  violation  of  marriage- 
vows,  and  utter  disregard  of  the  most  tender  and  endear- 
ing- ties  of  domestic  affection  :  indeed,  nothing  can  convey 
more  consolation  and  support  to  a  high-minded,  virtuous 
woman,  in  the  midst  of  sorrow  and  misfortunes,  than  the 
recollection  of  the  conduct  of  her  sex  under  similar  cir- 
cumstances; when,  encompassed  like  herself  by  dangers, 
difficulties,  or  death,  women  have  continued  to  adhere 
with  fidelity  to  their  husbands'  fortunes  under  every  vicis- 
situde and  trial. 


90  CONJUGAL  AFFECTION. 

STRUGGLE  BETWEEN  CONJUGAL  AND  FILIAL  LO"V£ 

"  I  never  heard 

Of  any  true  affection  but  't  was  nipt 
With  care,  that,  like  the  caterpillar,  eats 
The  leaves  of  the  spring's  sweetest  book,  the  rose." 

THOMAS  MIDDLETOH. 

CHELONIS,  daughter  of  Leonidas,  King  of  Sparta,  was 
equally  unfortunate  as  a  wife  and  a  daughter,  but  per- 
formed her  duty  faithfully  under  each  character,  adhering 
always  to  the  most  unfortunate  side. 

"Leonidas,  suspecting  that  a  conspiracy  had  been 
formed  against  him,  fled  for  shelter  to  the  Temple  of 
Minerva,  upon  which  Cleombrotus,  his  son-in-law,  seized 
upon  the  reins  of  government.  Chelonis,  hearing  that 
her  father  had  fled,  quitted  her  husband  to  console  her 
parent  in  his  affliction,  and  she  attended  him  while  in 
sanctuary,  sympathizing  in  all  his  sorrows  :  but  when  the 
fortunes  of  Leonidas  changed,  she  changed  too.  She 
joined  her  husband  as  a  suppliant  for  pardon ;  and  when 
Leonidas  came  with  his  soldiers  to  the  temple  in  which 
Cleombrotus  had  sheltered  himself  on  his  change  of 
circumstances,  he  found  Chelonis  sitting  by  her  husband 
on  the  ground,  with  great  marks  of  tenderness,  having 
her  two  children,  one  on  each  side,  at  her  feet. 

"  All  who  were  present  melted  into  tears  at  this  moving 
sight,  and  were  struck  with  admiration  at  the  virtue  and 
tenderness  of  the  princess,  and  the  amiable  force  of  conju- 
gal love.  Leonidas,  addressing  his  son-in-law,  reproached 
him  in  terms  of  resentment  with  conspiring  against  him, 
though  honored  with  his  alliance,  depriving  him  of  the 
crown,  and  banishing  him  the  country  ;  while  the  unhappy 
Cleombrotus,  unable  to  deny  these  accusations,  testified 
his  confusion  by  his  silence. 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION.  91 

"  Chelonis,  perceiving  her  husband's  distress,  pointed 
to  her  mourning  habit  and  dishevelled  hair,  and  said  to 
her  father,  '  It  was  not,  my  dear  father,  compassion  for 
Cleombrotus  which  put  me  in  this  habit  and  gave  me 
this  look  of  misery  ;  my  sorrows  took  their  date  with  your 
misfortunes,  and  have  ever  since  remained  my  familiar 
companions.  Now  you  have  conquered  your  enemies  and 
are  again  King  of  Sparta,  should  I  still  retain  these  ensigns 
of  affliction,  or  appear  in  festival  and  royal  ornaments, 
while  the  husband  of  my  youth,  whom  you  gave  me,  falls 
a  victim  to  your  vengeance  ?  If  his  own  submission,  if 
the  tears  of  his  wife  and  children,  cannot  propitiate  you, 
he  must  suffer  a  severer  punishment  for  his  offences  than 
you  require,  he  must  see  his  beloved  wife  expire  before 
him.  For  how  can  I  survive  and  support  the  sight  of 
my  own  sex,  after  both  my  husband  and  my  father  have 
refused  to  hearken  to  my  supplications;  when  it  appears, 
that,  both  as  a  wife  and  a  daughter,  I  am  born  to  be 
miserable  with  my  family?  If  this  poor  man  had  any 
plausible  reasons  for  what  he  did,  I  obviated  them  all  by 
forsaking  him  to  follow  you.  But  you  furnish  him  with 
a  sufficient  apology  for  his  misbehavior,  by  showing  that 
a  crown  is  so  great  and  desirable  an  object,  that  a  son-in- 
law  must  be  slain  and  a  daughter  utterly  disregarded, 
when  that  is  the  question.'  Chelonis,  after  this  suppli- 
cation, rested  her  cheek  upon  her  husband's  head,  and 
with  an  eye  dim  and  languid  with  sorrow,  looked  round 
on  the  spectators.  Leonidas,  after  a  few  moments'  con- 
sultation with  his  friends,  commanded  Cleombrotus  to  rise 
and  immediately  to  quit  Sparta,  but  earnestly  importuned 
his  daughter  to  continue  there,  and  not  to  forsake  a 
father  who  gave  her  such  a  peculiar  proof  of  his  tender- 
less  as  to  spare  the  forfeited  life  of  her  husband.  His 


92  CONJUGAL  AFFECTION. 

solicitations  were,  however,  ineffectual,  for  when  Cleom 
brotus  had  risen  from  the  ground,  Chelonis  placed  one 
child  in  his  arms  and  took  the  other  herself;  and  having 
paid  due  homage  at  the  altar,  where  they  had  taken 
shelter,  she  went  with  him  into  banishment." 

Plutarch,  after  relating  this  interesting  story,  justly 
observes,  that,  "had  not  Cleombrotus  been  corrupted 
with  the  love  of  false  glory,  he  must  have  thought  exile, 
with  such  a  woman,  a  greater  happiness  than  a  kingdom 
without  her." 

MAGNANIMOUS  REPLY  OF  THESTA. 

"  Greatness  of  mind,  and  nobleness,  their  seat 
In  her  build  loveliest."  —  MILTON. 

POLYXENUS,  having  joined  in  a  conspiracy  against  his 
brother-in-law,  Dionysius,  fled  from  Syracuse,  in  order  to 
avoid  falling  into  the  tyrant's  hands.  Dionysius  imme- 
diately sent  for  his  sister,  Thesta,  and  reproached  her 
very  much  for  not  apprizing  him  of  her  husband's 
intended  flight,  as  she  could  not,  he  observed,  be  igno- 
rant of  it.  She  replied,  without  expressing  the  least 
surprise  or  fear,  "  Have  I,  then,  appeared  so  bad  a  wife 
to  you,  and  of  so  mean  a  soul,  as  to  have  abandoned 
my  husband  in  his  flight,  and  not  to  have  desired  to 
share  in  his  dangers  and  misfortunes  ?  No !  I  knew 
nothing  of  it;  for  I  should  be  much  happier  in  being 
called  the  wife  of  Polyxenus  in  exile,  in  the  most  remote 
corner  of  the  world,  than,  in  Syracuse,  the  sister  of  the 
tyrant ! "  Dionysius  could  not  but  admire  an  answer  so 
full  of  spirit  and  generosity :  and  the  Syracusans,  in 
general,  were  so  charmed  with  the  magnanimity  of 
Thesta,  that,  after  the  tyranny  was  suppressed,  the  same 
honors,  equipage,  and  train  of  a  queen,  which  she  had 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  93 

before,  were  continued  to  her  during  her  life ;  and,  upon 
her  death,  the  people  numerously  attended  her  body  to 
the  tomb. 


WOMEN  WHO  HAVE  BECOME  VOLUNTARY  EXILEi 

"  'T  is  ever  so !  affection  feeds 
Sometimes  on  flowers,  —  how  oft  on  weeds  ! " 

J.  H.  WIFFEN. 

AXTONIA  FLAXILLA,  when  her  husband  was  exiled  b} 
Nero,  preferred  to  accompany  her  beloved  lord  into  ban 
ishment,  although  she  might,  by  remaining  at  Rome, 
have  enjoyed  all  the  pleasures  and  delights  of  that  city. 
Egnatia  Maximilla,  whose  husband,  Gallus,  was  found 
guilty  of  the  Pysonian  faction,  the  same  conspiracy  in 
which  Priscus,  the  husband  of  Flaxilla,  had  joined,  also 
accompanied  her  exiled  partner. 

Sulpitia,  having  been,  by  her  mother,  Julia,  prevented 
following  Lentulus  Crustellis,  her  husband,  into  banish- 
ment, when  he  was  confined  in  Sicily,  by  the  Triumvi- 
rate, made  her  escape  from  those  appointed  to  watch 
over  her,  under  the  attire  of  a  maid-servant,  and,  at- 
tended by  two  of  her  women  and  two  men-servants,  fled 
secretly  to  the  place  where  her  husband  was,  preferring 
a  share  in  his  miseries  and  misfortunes  to  every  enjoy- 
ment Rome  could  offer. 

Fannia,  the  illustrious  wife  of  Helvidius  Priscus,  at- 
tended him  in  exile  up  to  the  period  of  his  unfortunate 
and  unjust  death :  she  was  confined,  for  the  third  time, 
from  the  death  of  Tiberius  Nero  to  the  death  of  Dom-i- 
tian.  Pliny  has  commemorated  the  virtues  of  this  excel- 
lent lady  in  his  Epistles. 


94  CONJUGAL  AFFECTION. 

TURIA  CONCEALS  HER  HUSBAND,  LUCRETIUS. 

"  Banished  from  her, 
Is  self  from  self,  a  deadly  banishment ! "  —  SHAKSPEARE. 

QUINTUS  LUCRETIUS  being  proscribed  by  the  Trium- 
virate and  ordered  into  exile,  his  wife,  Turia,  assisted  by 
one  of  her  female  attendants,  concealed  him  between  two 
chambers  in  his  own  house,  with  the  greatest  secrecy 
and  to  her  own  extreme  peril,  so  that  while  others  were 
removed  into  remote  countries,  and  exposed  to  labor  of 
body  and  distress  of  mind,  Lucretius  alone  remained  in 
security  under  his  own  roof,  attended  by  his  constant 
companion,  a  faithful  and  affectionate  wife. 


THE   DUCHESS  OF  BAVARIA. 

"  Love,  give  me  strength!  and  strength  shall  help  afford." 

SHAKSPEARE. 

WHEN  the  forfeited  life  of  a  husband  is  at  stake,  what 
will  not  the  ingenuity  of  a  wife's  affection  devise  to 
secure  its  safety? 

Guelph,  Duke  of  Bavaria,  having  made  war  on  the 
Emperor,  Conrad  the  Third,  that  prince  besieged  him  in 
the  castle  of  Weinsperg.  The  duke  supported  the  siege 
with  heroic  bravery,  and  only  yielded  to  superior  force. 
The  emperor  treated  the  person  whom  Guelph  had  sent 
to  him  to  capitulate  with  great  civility,  and  gave  his 
word  that  the  duke  and  his  troops  should  be  permitted 
to  pass  through  the  Imperial  army  unmolested.  The 
duke's  lady,  however,  suspected  that  some  fatal  design 
against  her  husband  was  concealed  under  this  appear- 
ance of  clemency.  She  therefore  wished  to  make  a 
more  certain  engagement  than  that  of  mere  words.  She 
sent  a  gentleman  to  the  emperor,  to  demand  from  him 


CONJUGAL    AFFECTION.  95 

Bafe  conduct,  not  only  for  herself,  but  also  for  the  other 
ladies  and  women  that  were  in  the  castle ;  that  they 
might  be  suffered  to  pass  unmolested,  and  be  conducted 
to  a  place  of  security ;  and  that  they  should  also  be  at 
liberty  to  take  whatever  they  could  carry  with  them. 
To  this  request  Conrad  readily  acceded. 

In  the  presence  of  the  emperor  and  all  his  army,  their 
departure  from  the  castle  took  place;  but  every  one  was 
overcome  with  astonishment  when  they  saw  pass  first 
the  duchess,  then  countesses,  baronesses,  and  other 
ladies  of  quality,  whose  husbands  had  offended  against 
the  emperor,  each  with  difficulty  carrying  her  lord  on 
her  shoulders. 

It  had  been  supposed,  in  the  army,  that  when  the 
duchess  demanded  the  favor,  it  was  only  with  a  view  to 
save  their  gold,  silver,  and  jewels,  and  no  suspicion  was 
entertained  of  their  real  intentions.  The  emperor  was 
surprised  at  the  sight,  and  could  not  help  being  touched 
with  the  tenderness  and  courage  of  these  ladies,  who 
considered  their  husbands  as  their  real  treasure,  which 
they  esteemed  more  than  gold  or  jewels.  Yielding  to 
the  admiration  this  example  of  conjugal  tenderness  had 
occasioned,  the  emperor  pardoned  the  men  for  the  sake 
of  the  women,  whom  he  commended  for  their  fidelity  to 
their  husbands.  After  treating  them  to  a  splendid  din- 
ner, Conrad  came  to  a  sincere  accommodation  with 
Guelph  and  his  companions,  and  the  town  was  saved. 


96  CONJUGAL  AFFECTION. 

SELF-DEVOTION  OF  QUEEN  ELEANOR. 

"  Cold  in  (he  dust  this  perished  heart  may  lie. 
But  that  which  warmed  it  once,  shall  never  die ! " 

CAMPBELL. 

ELEANOR,  wife  of  Edward  the  First,  gave  a  most 
affecting  proof  of  her  conjugal  tenderness. 

While  Edward  was  in  Palestine,  he  received  a  wound 
from  a  poisoned  arrow,  and  his  life  would  have  been 
inevitably  lost,  had  not  Eleanor,  generously  disregarding 
all  considerations  of  personal  safety,  preserved  her  hus- 
band by  sucking  the  poison  from  the  wound. 

Her  noble  disinterestedness  was  amply  rewarded  by 
the  king's  perfect  restoration  to  health,  while  her  own 
happily  remained  unimpaired  by  her  affectionate  action. 
In  memory  of  this  event,  Edward  erected  crosses  at 
every  place  where  the  hearse  of  his  beloved  Eleanor 
rested  on  its  way  from  Lincolnshire  to  Westminster. 
Charing  Cross,  as  it  stood  before  the  civil  wars,  was  one 
of  those  beautiful  Gothic  obelisks  raised  by  this  king  to 
perpetuate  the  memory  of  conjugal  affection. 


GERTRUDE   VON  DER  WART. 

"  Hath  the  world  aught  for  me  to  fear, 

When  death  is  on  thy  brow  ? 
The  world !  what  means  it  ?  —  mine  is  here  — 
I  will  not  leave  thee  now."  —  MRS.  HEMANS. 

THE  Baroness  von  der  Wart  has  been  justly  entitled 
the  most  faithful  of  wives.  Her  unhappy  husband  was 
one  of  those  persons  who  w^re  accused  of  being  accom- 
plices with  John  of  Svvabia,  in  the  assassination  of  the 
Smperor  Albert ;  though  it  appears,  from  the  testimony 
of  both  early  and  late  historians,  that  he  had  taken  no 
immediate  part  in  the  deed  itself.  This  event  took  place 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  9^ 

,n  the  year  130S,  and  to  the  last  Rudolph  von  der  Wan 
maintained  his  innocence  of  the  crime  imputed  to  him. 
The  unfortunate  man  was  bound  alive  to  the  wheel,  but 
even  in  his  last  trying  moments  he  was  attended  by  his 
wife,  Gertrude  ;  who,  in  a  letter  to  her  friend,  (Margaret 
Freienstern,)  written  some  time  after  that  melancholy 
occasion,  gives  the  following  account  of  those  dreadful 
hours :  — 

"  I  prayed  under  the  scaffold  on  which  my  husband 
was  fastened  alive  upon  the  wheel,  and  exhorted  him  to 
fortitude.  I  then  arose,  and  with  thick  pieces  of  wood 
built  myself  a  kind  of  steps,  by  means  of  which  I  could 
mount  up  to  the  wheel,  laid  myself  upon  his  trembling 
limbs  and  head,  and  stroked  the  hair  from  his  face,  which 
the  wind  had  blown  all  over  it.  '  I  beseech  you,  leave  me ! 
Oh,  I  beseech  you  ! '  he  exclaimed  continually ;  '  when  day 
breaks,  should  you  be  found  here,  what  will  be  your  fate  ? 
ind  what  new  misery  will  you  bring  upon  me  ?  Oh  God  ! 
is  it  possible  that  thou  canst  still  increase  my  sufferings?' 

"  '  I  will  die  with  you  !  't  is  for  that  I  come,  and  no 
power  shall  force  me  from  you,'  said  I,  and  spread  out 
my  arms  over  him,  and  implored  God  for  my  Rudolph's 
death. 

"  The  day  broke  slowly,  when  I  saw  many  people  in 
motion  opposite  us ;  I  replaced  the  thick  pieces  of  wood 
where  I  had  found  them.  It  was  the  guard,  who  had  fled 
on  my  appearance,  but  had  remained  near  the  spot;  and, 
as  it  seemed,  caused  a  report  to  be  made  of  what  had 
passed ;  for  at  daybreak,  all  the  people,  men,  women,  and 
children,  came  flocking  out  of  the  town. 

"  As  more  people  approached,  I  saw  also  several  women 
of  my  own  acquaintance ;  among  them  was  the  wife  of 
the  bailiff,  Hugo  Von  Winterthur;  I  saluted  her,  and 
9 


98  CONJUGAL  AFFECTION. 

begged  her  intervention  with  her  husband,  that  he  might 
order  the  executioner  to  put  an  end  to  my  husband's 
cruel  sufferings. 

" '  He  dare  not  do  anything  for  me,'  sighed  Wart, 
upon  the  wheel,  again  moving  his  head  at  this  moment, 
and  looking  down  upon  me  with  his  swollen  eyes ;  '  he 
dare  not  do  anything :  the  queen*  pronounced  the  sen- 
tence, and  the  bailiff  must,  therefore,  obey;  otherwise,  I 
had  well  deserved  of  him  that  he  should  do  me  this  last 
kindness.' 

"  Some  persons  brought  me  bread  and  confectioner)', 
and  offered  me  wine  to  refresh  me  —  but  I  could  take 
nothing ;  for  the  tears  that  were  shed,  and  the  pity  that 
animated  every  heart  and  was  kindly  expressed,  was  to 
me  the  most  agreeable  refreshment.  As  it  grew  lighter, 
the  number  of  people  increased ;  I  recognized  also  the 
sheriff,  Steiner  von  Pfungen,  with  his  two  sons,  Conrad 
and  Datlikon;  also  a  Madame  von  Neuftenback,  who 
was  praying  for  us. 

"  The  executioner  came  also,  then  Lamprecht,  the  con- 
fessor. The  first  said,  with  a  sigh,  '  God  have  compassion 
on  this  unhappy  man,  and  comfort  his  soul ! '  The  latter 
asked  Rudolph  if  he  would  not  yet  confess  ?  Wart,  with 
a  dreadful  exertion  of  all  his  strength,  repeated  the  same 
wprds  that  he  had  called  out  to  the  queen,  before  the 
tribunal  at  Brugk  (denying  the  charge.)  The  priest  was 
silent. 

"  All  at  once  I  heard  a  cry  of  '  Make  way ! '  and  a  troop 
of  horsemen  approached,  with  their  vizors  down.  The 
executioner  knelt;  the  confessor  laid  his  hand  upon  his 
breast ;  the  horsemen  halted.  Fathers  and  mothers  held 
up  their  children  in  their  arms,  and  the  guard  with  theii 

*  Agnes,  Queen  of  Hungary,  daughter  of  the  murdered  emperor 


CONJUGAL  AFFECnON.  99 

ances  formed  a  circle,  while  the  tallest  of  the  knighta 
raised  himself  in  his  stirrups,  and  said  to  the  executioner, 
'Whither  are  the  crows  flown,  that  he  still  keeps  his 
eyas  ? '  And  this  was  Duke  Leopold. 

"  My  heart  ceased  t£  beat,  when  another  knight,  with 
a  scornful  smile,  said,  'Let  him  writhe  as  long  as  he  has 
feeling !  but  these  people  must  be  gone.  Confounded 
wretches  !  this  sighing  and  crying  makes  me  mad  !  No 
pity  must  be  shown  here;  —  and  she  here,  who  so 
increases  the  howling  —  who  is  she  ?  and  what  does  the 
woman  want  ?  —  away  with  her ! ' 

"  I  now  recognized  the  voice  of  the  queen.  It  was 
Agnes,  in  the  dress  and  armor  of  a  knight.  I  remarked 
immediately  that  it  was  a  woman's  voice,  and  it  is 
certain  it  was  Agnes. 

" '  It  is  Wart's  wife,'  I  heard  a  third  knight  say  :  '  last 
night,  when  the  sentence  was  executed,  we  took  her  with 
as  to  Kyburg.  She  escaped  from  us,  and  I  must  find 
Mer  here  then.  We  thought  that,  in  her  despair,  she 
nad  leapt  into  the  moat  of  the  castle.  We  have  been 
seeking  her  since  this  morning  early.  God  !  what  faith- 
ful love  !  —  let  her  alone  ;  nothing  can  be  done  with  her.' 

"  I  here  recognized  the  mild-tempered  Von  Landenberg. 
How  well  did  he  now  speak  for  me !  I  could  have  fallen 
it  his  feet. 

"  '  Well,  Gertrude,'  cried  a  fourth  to  me.  '  will  you 
not  take  rational  advice?  Do  not  kill  yourself!  save 
yourself  for  the  world  !  you  will  not  repent  of  it.  Who 
was  this?  Margaret!  I  trembled;  it  was  she  who  wanted 
to  persuade  me,  at  Brugk,  to  leave  the  criminal  Wart 
to  his  fate,  and  pass  days  of  joy  with  her.  Then  I  too 
could  almost  have  exclaimed,  'God!  this  is  too  much! 
—  cease ! ' 


100  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

"  Agnes  made  a  signal  to  an  esquire  to  raise  me  up 
and  bring  me  away  from  the  scaffold.  He  approached 
me  out  I  threw  my  arm  round  it,  and  implored  my  own 
and  my  husband's  death ;  but  in  vain ;  two  men  dragged 
me  away.  I  besought  assistance,  from  Heaven :  it  was 
granted  me. 

"Von  Landenberg  (otherwise  a  faithful  servant  of 
Austria)  once  more  ventured  to  speak  for  me.  '  Cease  to 
humble  her ;  such  fidelity  is  not  found  on  earth  :  angels 
in  heaven  must  rejoice  at  it  j  but  it  would  be  good  if  the 
people  were  driven  away ! ' '  .  • 

"  They  1ft  me  loose  again ;  the  horsemen  departed  ; 
tears  flowed  from  Lamprecht's  eyes ;  he  had  acted  strictly 
according  to  his  duty,  and  executed  the  will  of  the  queen; 
he  could  now  listen  to  the  voice  of  nature,  and  weep 
with  me.  '  I  can  hold  out  no  longer,  noble  lady !  I  am 
vanquished ;  your  name  shall  be  mentioned  with  glory 
among  saints  in  heaven,  for  this  world  will  forget  it.  Be 
faithful  unto  death,  and  God  will  give  you  the  crown  of 
life,'  said  he :  he  gave  me  his  hand  and  departed. 

"  Every  one  now  left  the  place  except  the  executioner 
and  the  guard ;  evening  came  on,  and  at  length  silent 
night;  a  stormy  wind  arose,  and  its  howling  joined  with 
the  loud  and  unceasing  prayers  which  I  put  up  to  the 
Almighty. 

"  One  of  the  guard  now  brought  me  a  cloalc,  to  protect 
me  from  the  wind,  because  it  was  night;  but  I  got  upon 
the  wheel,  and  spread  it  upon  the  naked  and  broken 
limbs  of  my  husband ;  the  wind  whistled  through  his 
hair ;  his  lips  were  dry.  I  fetched  some  water  in  my 
shoe,  which  was  a  refreshment  to  us  both.  I  know  not, 
my  dearest  Margaritha,  how  it  was  possible  for  me  to 
Jive  through  such  heart-breaking  and  cruel  hours.  But 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION.  11 J 

I  lay  as  if  guarded  and  wonderfully  strengthened  by  God, 
continually  praying,  near  the  wheel,  on  which  my  whole 
world  reposed. 

"As  often  as  a  sigh  broke  from  the  breast  of  my 
Rudolph,  it  was  a  dagger  to  my  heart ;  but  I  consoled 
myself  with  the  hope  that  after  a  short  time  of  suffering, 
the  eternal  joys  of  heaven  would  be  my  portion,  and  this 
gave  me  courage  to  suffer ;  I  knew,  too,  for  whom  I  suf- 
fered, and  this  gave  me  strength  in  the  combat,  so  that 
I  endured  to  the  very  last  moment. 

"  Though  Wart  had  at  first  so  earnestly  begged  me 
not  to  increase  his  agonies  by  my  presence,  yet  he  now 
thanked  me  as  much  for  not  having  left  him ;  in  my 
prayers  to  God  he  found  consolation  and  refreshment, 
and  it  was  a  comfort  to  his  soul  when  I  prayed. 

"  How  the  last  dreadful  morning  and  noon  were  spent, 
permit  me  to  pass  over  in  silence.  A  few  hours  before 
evening,  Rudolph  moved  his  head  for  the  last  time ;  1 
raised  myself  up  to  him.  He  murmured,  very  faintly, 
but  with  smiling  love  upon  his  lips,  these  words, 
'  Gertrude,  this  is  fidelity  till  death  !  '  and  expired.  On 
my  knees  I  thanked  God  for  the  grace  which  he  had 
given  me,  to  remain  faithful  to  the  end." 


COURAGE   AND   FIDELITY   OF  BON  A   LONG  AB  ARE  A. 

"  Whoever  has  gained  the  affections  of  a  woman,  is  sure  to 
succeed  in  any  enterprise  wherein  she  assists  him."  —  GALL. 

BONA  LONGABARBA  was  a  female  warrior  of  Lombardy, 
who  lived  about  A.D.  1568.  This  lady  was  married  to 
Brunorius  Pamensis,  a  worthy  and  renowned  soldier, 
and  not  only  mixed  in  the  exercises  of  the  chase  and 
hunting,  but  attended  her  husband  in  all  his  warlike 
9* 


l02  CONJUGAL  AFFECTION. 

expeditions,  not  as  a  partner  in  his  pleasures,  but  as  a 
Companion  in  his  dangers.  After  many  'great  services 
performed,  and  glorious  victories  achieved,  Brunorius 
fell  into  the  displeasure  of  Alexander,  King  of  Sicily, 
who  cast  him  into  prison :  "  but,"  says  the  historian. 
"  this  noble  lady,  Bona,  good  both  in  name  and  condi- 
tions, did  not  cease  to  solicit  the  emperor  and  other 
Christian  princes,  both  by  petitions  and  friend?;,  till  she 
had  purchased  him  a  safe  and  honorable  release." 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION   OF  A  VENETIAN  LADY. 

"  'T  is  the  last 
Duty  that  I  can  pay  to  my  dead  lord  !  "  —  FLETCHER. 

FRANCISCTTS  FOSCARUS,  Duke  of  Venice,  had  married  a 
second  wife,  and  had  by  her  a  promising  offspring :  the 
lady  was  of  the  noble  family  of  the  Nanae.  After  a  long 
and  happy  union,  the  senate  deprived  him,  in  his  old 
age,  of  the  principality ;  upon  which  he  was  so  much 
grieved,  that,  retiring  into  the  most  ancient  house  belong- 
ing to  his  family,  he  died  there  at  the  end  of  three  days. 

As  Foscarus  had  been  their  ducal  sovereign,  the  sena- 
tors desired  to  bring  forth  his  body  to  a  solemn  and 
princely  burial;  but  the  wife  of  the  deceased  shut  her 
gates  against  them,  blaming  their  former  ingratitude,  and 
alleging  that  she  had  both  Avealth  and  will  sufficient, 
without  them,  to  bestow  upon  him  the  last  rites  due 
to  a  worthy  and  royal  husband.  Notwithstanding  their 
menaces  and  entreaties,  she  persisted,  with  constancy,  in 
her  resolution,  not  suffering  them  once  to  approach  the 
place,  much  less  to  take  the  body  from  where  she  had 
carefully  bestowed  it,  still  exclaiming  on  the  senate's 
malice,  and  the  commonwealth's  ingratitude,  who  to 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION.  103 

their  former  wrongs  desired  to  add  this  new  injury,  of 
not  leaving  him  in  death  to  her,  whom  they  had  so 
perjurously  in  life  forsaken. 

Notwithstanding  these  exclamations,  they  shut  the 
lady  up  in  her  chamber,  and  having  by  force  taken  the 
body  thence,  all  the  senators  attended  upon  the  hearse, 
and  assisted  in  the  rites  of  a  solemn  and  pompous 
funeral.  While  thus  their  counterfeit  sorrow  was  made 
outwardly  apparent,  the  grief  of  the  constant  and  faith- 
ful mourner  increased  daily  in  the  reflection  that  her 
princely  husband  should,  at  his  death,  be  beholden  for 
any  courtesies  to  his  enemies,  while  she  had  desired  that 
he  might  only  by  herself,  and  from  her  own  means, 
receive  the  funeral  obsequies,  not  of  a  royal  duke,  but  of 
a  private  gentleman. 

COURAGE   OF  THE   DUCHESS  D'EPERNON. 

"  To  die  for  what  we  love  !  Oh  !  there  is  power 
In  the  true  heart,  and  pride,  and  joy,  for  this  ; 
It  is  to  live  without  the  vanished  light 
That  strength  is  needed." 

THE  Duke  d'Epernon  was  governor  of  the  Chateau 
d'Angouleme ;  and  the  chiefs  of  the  League,  in  15S8, 
having  determined  to  effect  his  ruin,  rendered  him  sus- 
pected at  court,  and  obtained  an  order  for  his  arrest, 
which  was  given  to  a  magistrate,  with  instructions  to 
proceed  to  the  castle  and  seize  the  duke.  The  officer 
charged  with  the  execution  of  this  command  found 
means  to  make  the  Duchess  d'Epernon  his  prisoner,  and, 
with  a  visw  of  compelling  the  duke  to  surrender,  he 
placed  her  before  the  principal  gate  of  the  citadel,  to 
which  the  troops  under  his  command  had  laid  siege. 
In  this  perilous  situation,  one  of  the  officers  by  whom 


104  CONJUGAL  AFFECTION. 

the  duchess  was  led  was  killed  at  her  feet,  and  another 
mortally  wounded. 

Calm,  amidst  the  dangers  which  menaced  her,  and 
insensible  to  the  remonstrances  of  the  enemy,  who  urged 
her  to  exhort  her  husband  to  surrender,  Marguerite 
replied,  magnanimously,  that  she  knew  not  how  to  give 
ill  counsel,  nor  would  she  enter  into  a  treaty  with  mur- 
derers. "  In  what  terms,"  said  she,  "  can  a  wife,  who  is 
afflicted  only  that  she  has  but  one  life  to  offer  for  the 
honor  and  safety  of  her  husband,  persuade  him  to  an  act 
of  cowardice  ?  "  She  went  on  to  declare  that  she  would 
shed,  with  joy,  the  last  drop  of  her  blood,  to  add  new 
lustre  to  the  reputation  of  her  husband,  or  to  lengthen 
his  existence  but  a  single  day.  That  she  would  be 
guilty  of  no  weakness  that  should  disgrace  him;  and 
that  she  would  die  with  pleasure,  at  the  castle  gate,  for 
him  without  whom  she  should  abhor  life,  even  on  a 
throne.  To  the  duke,  whom  they  endeavored  to  terrify 
by  the  dangers  which  threatened  his  wife,  she  held  out 
her  arms,  and  implored  him  not  to  suffer  his  resolution 
to  be  shaken  by  any  considerations  which  respected  her 
safety.  It  was  her  wish,  she  told  him,  that  her  body 
might  serve  him  for  a  new  rampart  against  his  enemies. 
On  him,  she  declared,  in  whom  she  lived,  depended  her 
fortune  and  her  fate.  That,  by  sacrificing  himself,  he 
would  gain  no  advantage,  since  she  was  determined  not 
to  survive  him;  but  that  to  live  in  his  remembrance 
would,  in  despite  of  their  adversaries,  constitute  her 
happiness  and  glory.  The  grace  and  energy  with 
which  the  high-souled  Marguerite  expressed  herself  soft- 
ened the  hearts  of  the  enemy,  who  deliberated  on  other 
means  by  which  their  purpose  might  be  effected.  In  the 
fBterval  the  duke  was  relieved  by  his  friends:  when 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  105 

Marguerite,  impatient  to  rejoin  this  beloved  husband,  ot 
whom  she  had  proved  herself  so  worthy,  without  waiting 
till  the  castle  gate  was  cleared,  entered  by  a  ladder  at 
one  of  the  windows,  and  was  received  with  the  honor 
and  tenderness  she  merited. 


ELEANOR   CHRISTINA   OF   DENMARK. 
"  The  tenderest  wife,  the  noblest  heroine  too  !  "  —  CANNING. 

ELEANOR  CHRISTINA,  the  daughter  of  Christian  the 
Fourth,  King  of  Denmark,  distinguished  herself  by  her 
conjugal  affection,  as  well  as  by  the  sacred  regard  in 
which  she  considered  a  promise  ought  to  be  held. 

This  princess  had  been  betrothed,  at  the  early  age  <  f 
seven  years,  to  Corfitz  Ulfeld,  a  Danish  nobleman;  but  a 
Saxon  prince  having  claimed  her  in  marriage  when  s!  16 
attained  her  twelfth  year,  the  alliance  was  consider  ;d 
more  suitable  to  her  dignity,  and  attempts  were  made  to 
induce  her  to  accept  the  offer.  But  as  her  marria  re 
promise  had  been  given,  though  not  by  herself,  yet  by 
others  in  her  behalf,  Eleanor  deemed  it  too  sacred  an 
engagement  to  be  broken.  She  therefore  continued  true 
to  her  word,  and  married  Ulfeld  at  the  age  of  fifteen. 

On  the  death  of  the  king,  the  overbearing  spirit  of 
this  nobleman  first  began  to  manifest  itself;  and  his 
enemies,  either  secretly  or  openly  availing  themselves  of 
his  weakness,  contrived  to  effect  his  destruction.  One 
misfortune  succeeded  to  another  ;  he  was  exiled,  recalled, 
and  imprisoned,  and  then  again  banished.  Thus  he  was 
pursued  from  one  place  to  another,  until  he  died  in  the 
greatest  misery.  During  all  his  misfortunes,  however, 
he  was  faithfully  attended  by  Eleanor;  who,  although 
fhe  daughter  of  a  king,  and  accustomed  to  luxuries  of 


106  CONJUGAL  AFFECTION. 

every  description,  did  not  hesitate  to  share  her  husband's 
troubles.  She  followed  him  everywhere,  in  exile  and  in 
prison,  enduring  every  sacrifice  and  privation,  in  order  to 
solace  him  in  his  affliction.  Her  husband  happening 
once  to  be  in  great  danger  when  travelling  in  disguise, 
she  attired  herself  in  a  male  habit,  that  she  might  guard 
him,  and  procure  him  every  accommodation. 

At  another  time,  Ulfeld,  during  his  residence  in  Swe- 
den, became  suspected  of  carrying  on  a  secret  correspond- 
ence: ir>  consequence  of  which,  the  king  appointed  a 
commission  to  investigate  the  business.  On  this  occasion, 
Eleanor  appeared  before  the  commissioners  to  excuse  her 
husband's  absence,  which,  she  said,  was  occasioned  by 
illness ;  and  she  pleaded  his  cause  with  so  much  energy 
and  zeal  that  a  verdict  of  acquittal  was  brought  in, 
which  received  the  king's  approbation. 

Eleanor  suffered  severely  for  her  conjugal  affection, 
even  after  the  death  of  her  husband ;  for  she  was  thrown 
into  prison,  and  did  not  obtain  her  liberty  again  until  she 
had  been  deprived  of  it  for  the  dreadful  period  of  forty- 
three  years.  At  the  end  .of  that  time  she  was  liberated 
by  Christian  the  Fifth,  who  presented  her  with  Mariboe 
Castle  as  a  fief,  and  granted  her,  at  the  same  time,  a 
pension  of  1,500  rix-dollars  per  annum. 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION  OF  LADY  RALEIGH. 

"  Oh !  when  meet  now 
Such  pairs,  in  love  and  mutual  honor  joined?"  —  Mnffos. 

THE  gallant  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  in  daily  expectation 
of  being  executed,  earnestly  endeavored  to  preseive  his 
estate  of  Sherborne  to  his  wife  and  child.  To  Car,  Ear'i 
of  Somerset,  who  had  begged  it  for  himself,  and  who  '.vis 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION  107 

the  rising  favorite  and  minion  of  King  James  I,  Sir 
Walter  addressed  a  letter,  beseeching  him  "not  to  begin 
his  first  building  on  the  ruins  of  the  innocent,  —  not  to 
cut  down  the  tree  with  the  fruit,  and  undergo  the  curse 
of  them  that  enter  the  fields  of  the  fatherless."  The 
letter  produced  no  effect  upon  the  parasite ;  and  to  the 
solicitations  of  the  Lady  Raleigh  to  the  king,  upon  her 
knees,  with  her  children,  the  weak  sovereign,  the  first  of 
the  Stuarts,  only  answered,  "  I  mun  have  the  land  —  I 
mun  have  it  for  Car ! "  This  excellent  lady  obtained 
permission  to  reside  with  her  husband  in  the  Tower, 
where,  in  the  first  year  of  his  imprisonment,  she  bore 
him  her  second  son,  Carew,  after  a  lapse  of  ten  years  ; 
and  shared  his  adversity  and  sorrows,  during  a  period  of 
twelve  years,  between  his  trial  and  his  being  put  to  death. 
She  was  very  beautiful;  faithfully  attached  to  her  ill- 
fated  partner,  who  was  eighteen  years  older  than  herself; 
and  testified  her  affection  for  his  memory,  by  retraining 
unmarried  until  her  death,  which  happened  twenty-nine 
years  after  his  unmerited  execution. 

SIR  RICHARD  AND  LADY  FANSHAWE. 

"  Happy  the  man,  and  happy  sure  he  was, 
So  wedded  !     Blessed  with  her,  he  wandered  not 
To  seek  for  happiness."  —  HURDIS. 

THE  following  interesting  account  is  extracted  from 
the  Memoirs  of  Lady  Fanshawe,  wife  of  Sir  Richard 
Fanshawe,  a  most  excellent  and  faithful  servant  of 
Charles  the  First ;  it  was  written  by  that  lady  herself, 
who  afforded  a  most  eminent  example  of  conjugal  affec- 
tion, and  addressed  by  her  to  her  son. 

"  Before  I  was  married,  my  husband  was  sworn  secre- 
tary of  war  to  the  prince,  now  our  king,  with  a  promise 


103  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

from  Charles  the  First  to  be  preferred  as  soon  as  occasion 
offered  it ;  but  his  fortune,  and  my  promised  fortune, 
which  was  made  10,OOOZ.,  were  both  at  that  time  in 
expectation,  and  we  might  truly  be  called  merchant 
adventurers,  for  the  stock  we  set  up  our  trading  with 
did  not  amount  to  2QL  betwixt  us ;  but,  however,  it  was 
to  us  as  a  little  piece  of  armor  is  against  a  bullet,  which, 
if  it  be  right  placed,  though  no  bigger  than  a  shilling, 
serves  as  well  as  a  whole  su.it  of  armor;  so  our  stock 
bought  pen,  ink  and  paper,  which  was  your  father's  trade, 
and  by  it,  I  assure  you,  we  lived  better  than  those  that 
were  born  to  two  thousand  a  year,  as  long  as  he  had  his 
liberty." 

Lady  Fanshawe  was  twenty,  and  her  husband  thirty- 
five,  at  the  time  of  their  ma.riage.  She  thus  describes 
him  :  —  "  He  was  of  the  highest  size  of  men,  strong,  and 
of  the  best  proportion  ;  his  complexion  sanguine,  his 
skin  exceeding  fair,  his  hair  dark  brown  and  very  curly, 
but  not  very  long,  his  eyes  gray  and  penetrating,  his 
nose  high,  his  countenance  gracious  and  wise,  his  motion 
good,  his  speech  clear  and  distinct.  He  never  used  exer- 
cise but  walking,  and  that  generally  with  some  book  in 
his  hand,  which  oftentimes  was  poetry,  in  which  he 
spent  his  idle  hours.  Sometimes  he  would  ride  out  to 
take  the  air;  but  his  most  delight  was  to  go  only  with 
me,  in  a  coach,  some  miles,  and  there  discourse  on  those 
things  which  then  most  pleased  him,  of  what  nature 
soever.  He  was  very  obliging  to  all,  and  forward  to 
serve  his  master,  his  country,  and  his  friend  ;  cheerful 
in  his  conversation,  his  discourse  ever  pleasant,  mixed 
with  the  sayings  of  wise  men,  and  their  histories  repeated 
as  occasion  offered  ;  yet  so  reserved,  that  he  never  showed 
the  thought  of  his  breast  in  its  greatest  sense  but  to 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION.  109 

myself  only ;  and  this  I  thank  God,  with  my  heart,  for— 
that  he  never  described  his  trouble  to  me,  but  went  from 
me  with  perfect  cheerfulness  and  content,  nor  revealed  he 
his  joys  and  hopes,  but  would  say  that  they  were  doubled 

by  Jutting  them  in  my  breast He  was  the  tenderest 

father  imaginable ;  the  carefullest,  most  generous  master 
I  ever  knew ;  he  loved  hospitality,  and  would  often  say 
it  was  wholly  essential  for  the  constitution  of  England  ; 
lie  loved  and  kept  order,  with  the  greatest  decency  possi- 
ble ;  and  though  he  would  say  I  managed  his  domestics 
wholly,  yet  I  ever  governed  them  and  myself  by  his 
commands,  in  the  management  of  which,  I  thank  God, 
I  found  his  approbation  and  content. 

"  Now,  you  will  expect  that  I  should  say  something 
that  may  remain  of  us  jointly,  which  I  will  do,  though  it 
makes  my  eyes  gush  out  with  tears,  and  cuts  me  to  the 
soul  to  remember,  and  in  part  express,  the  joys  I  was 
blessed  with  in  him.  Glory  be  to  God !  we  never  had 
but  one  mind  in  all  our  lives  :  our  souls  were  wrapped  up 
in  each  other's,  our  aims  and  designs  one,  our  loves  and 
our  resentments  one ;  we  so  studied  one  the  other,  that 
we  knew  each  other's  mind  by  our  looks  ;  whatever  was 
real  happiness,  God  gave  it  me  in  him.  But  to  commend 
my  better-half — which  I  want  sufficient  expression  fc  I 
—  methinks  is  to  commend  myself,  and  so  may  bear  a 
censure ;  but,  might  it  be  permitted,  I  could  dwell  eter- 
nally on  his  praise  most  justly ;  but  thus,  without  offence, 
I  do :  and  so  you  may  imitate  him  in  his.  patience,  his 
prudence,  his  chastity,  his  charity,  his  generosity,  his 
perfect  resignation  to  God's  will;  and  praise  God  for 
him  as  long  as  you  live  here,  and  with  him  hereafter  in 
the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Amen." 

Within  a  year  after  their  marriage,  her  husband  had  to 
10 


110  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

attend  the  prince  to  Bristol.  She  was  not  yet  recovered 
from  her  confinement,  so  could  not  accompany  him.  "  As 
for  that,"  she  says,  "  it  was  the  first  time  we  had  parted  a 
day  since  we  married :  he  was  extremely  afflicted,  even  to 
tears,  though  passion  was  against  his  nature ;  butithe 
sense  of  leaving  me  with  a  dying  child  —  which  did  die 
two  days  after,  in  a  garrison  town,  extremely  weak  and 
very  poor — were  such  circumstances  as  he  could  not  bear 
with,  only  the  argument  of  necessity ;  and,  for  my  own 
part,  it  cost  me  so  dear,  that  it  was  ten  weeks  before  I 
could  go  alone.*'  A  summons  from  her  husband  to  join 
him  at  Bristol,  with  50/.  to  defray  the  expenses  of  the 
way,  were  such  a  medicine  as  soon  restored  her  strength  ; 
and  full  of  spirit  and  hope,  a?  thinking  that  now  the  worst 
of  her  misfortunes  were  past,  jhe  set  out  and  accomplished 
in  safety  what  was  then  a  really  dangerous  journey. 
The  scene  which  followed  their  first  happy  meeting 
affords  a  perfect  model  of  how  a  husband  should  reprove, 
and  how  a  wife  should  take  deserved  reproof.  "  My 
husband  had  provided  very  good  lodgings  for  us,  and,  as 
soon  as  he  could  come  home  from  the  council,  where  he 
was  on  my  arrival,  he,  with  all  expressions  of  joy,  received 
me  in  his  arms,  and  gave  me  a  hundred  pieces  of  gold, 
saying,  '  I  know  thou,  that  keeps  my  heart  so  well,  will 
keep  my  fortune,  which,  from  this  time,  I  will  ever  put 
into  thy  hands,  as  God  shall  bless  me  with  increase.' 
And  now  I  thought  myself  a  perfect  queen,  and  my  hus- 
band so  glorious  a  crown,  that  I  more  valued  myself  to 
be  ca  led  by  his  name  than  to  be  born  a  princess ;  for  1^ 
knew  him  very  wise  and  very  good,  and  his  soul  doted 
on  me,  upon  which  confidence  I  will  tell  you  what  hap- 
pened. My  Lady  Rivers,  a  brave  woman,  and  one  who 
had  suffered  many  thousand  pounds'  loss  for  the  king 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION.  11 

and  whom  I  had  a  great  reverence  for,  and  she  a  kindnes* 
for  me  as  a  kinswoman,  in  discourse  tacitly  commended 
the  knowledge  of  state  affairs,  and  that  some  women 
were  very  happy  in  a  good  understanding  thereof,  as  my 
Lady  Aubigney,  Lady  Isabella  Thynne,  and  divers  others 
and  yet  none  was  at  first  more  capable  than  I ;  that  ir 
the  night  she  knew  there  came  a  post  from  Paris  from 
the  queen,  and  that  she  would  be  extremely  glad  to  hear 
what  the  queen  commanded  the  king  in  order  to  his 
affairs,  saying,  if  I  would  ask  my  husband  privately,  ha 
would  tell  me  what  he  found  in  the  packet,  and  I  might 
tell  her.  I,  that  was  young  and  innocent,  and  to  that 
day  had  never  in  my  mouth  what  news,  began  to  think 
there  was  more  in  inquiring  into  public  affairs  than  I 
thought  of;  and  that,  it  being  a  fashionable  thing,  would 
make  me  more  beloved  of  my  husband,  if  that  had  been 
possible,  than  I  was.  When  my  husband  returned  home 
from  the  council,  after  welcoming  him,  as  his  custom 
ever  was,  he  went,  with  his  hand  full  of  papers,  into  his 
study  for  an  hour  or  more.  I  followed  him.  He  turned 
hastily,  and  said,  '  What  wouldst  thou  have,  my  life  ? ' 
I  told  him  I  heard  the  prince  had  received  a  packet  from 
the  queen,  and  I  guessed  it  was  that  in  his  hand,  and  1 
desired  to  know  what  was  in  it.  He  smilingly  replied, 
'  My  love,  I  will  immediately  come  to  thee ;  pray  thee 
go,  for  I  am  very  busy.'  When  he  came  out  of  his  closet, 
I  revived  my  suit ;  he  kissed  me,  and  talked  of  other 
things.  At  supper  I  would  eat  nothing ;  he,  as  usual, 
sat  by  me,  and  drank  often  to  me,  as  was  his  custom, 
and  was  full  of  discourse  to  company  that  was  at  table. 
Going  to  bed,  I  asked  again,  and  said  I  could  not  believe 
he  loved  me,  if  he  refused  to  tell  me  all  he  knew ;  but 
he  answered  nothing,  but  stopped  my  mouth  witn  kisse.. : 


112  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

so  we  went  to  bed  ;  I  cried,  and  he  went  to  sleep.  Next 
morning  early,  as  his  custom  was,  he  called  to  rise,  but 
began  to  discourse  with  me  first,  to  which  I  made  no 
reply.  He  rose,  came  on  the  other  side  of  the  bed,  and 
kissed  me,  and  drew  the  curtain  gently  and  went  to  court. 
"When  he  came  home  to  dinner,  he  presently  came  to  me, 
as  usual;  -and  when  I  had  him  by  the  hand,  I  said, 
'  Thou  dost  not  care  to  see  me  troubled.'  To  which  he, 
taking  me  in  his  arms,  answered,  '  My  dearest  soul, 
nothing  upon  earth  can  afflict  me  like  that ;  and  when 
you  asked  me  of  my  business,  it  was  wholly  out  of  my 
power  to  satisfy  thee ;  for  my  life  and  fortune  shall  be 
tnine,  and  every  thought  of  my  heart,  in  which  the  trust 
I  am  in  may  not  be  revealed ;  but  my  honor  is  my  own, 
which  I  cannot  preserve  if  I  communicate  the  prince's 
affairs;  and  pray  thee,  with  this  answer,  rest  satisfied.' 
So  great  was  his  reason  and  goodness,  that,  upon  consid- 
eration, it  made  my  folly  appear  to  me  so  vile,  that  from 
that  day  until  the  day  of  his  death,  I  never  thought  fit  to 
ask  him  any  business  but  what  he  communicated  freely 
to  me  in  order  to  his  estate  and  family." 

The  position  of  Sir  Richard  Fanshawe  at  court  during 
the  stirring  times  of  civil  warfare  afforded  many  oppor- 
tunities for  his  wife  to  exercise  her  courage  and  presence 
of  mind.  Upon  one  occasion,  when  she  was  staying  at 
Truro,  in  Cornwall,  her  husband  being  absent  with  the 
king  some  persons  who  had  learnt  that  Sir  Richard  had 
charge  of  a  little  trunk  belonging  to.  the  king  attacked 
the  house  in  which  she  was.  Lady  Fanshawe  had  but 
seven  or  eight  persons  with  her  at  the  time,  but  courage- 
ously defended  the  place  till  help  came  from  the  town  to 
her  rescue;  and  the  next  day,  upon  giving  notice,  a  guard 
was  sent  to  her  by  the  king's  order. 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION.  113 

Upon  another  occasion,  when  Cork  revolted,  Lady 
Fanshawe,  although  at  the  time  on  a  bed  of  sickness,  had 
the  presence  of  mind  to  secure  her  husband's  papers  and 
valuables,  and  obtaining  an  order  for  safe  passport  from 
Colonel  Jefferies,  who  was  at  the  head  of  the  Parliament- 
arian army,  made  her  escape,  with  them,  her  child,  and 
servants,  to  her  husband. 

She  was  once,  also,  on  a  voyage  from  Galway  to 
Malaga  with  her  husband,  when  their  ship  was  approached 
by  a  Turkish  galley,  and  the  prospect  of  slavery  stared 
them  in  the  face.  "  This,"  says  Lady  Fanshawe,  "  was 
sad  for  us  passengers ;  but  my  husband  bid  us  to  be  sure 
to  keep  in  the  cabin,  and  not  appear,  which  would  make 
the  Turks  think  we  were  a  man-of-war  ;  but,  if  they  saw 
women,  they  would  take  us  for  merchants,  and  board  the 
vessel.  He  went  upon  deck,  and  took  a  gun,  a  bandalier, 
and  a  sword,  expecting  the  arrival  of  the  Turkish  man-of- 
war.  The  captain  had  locked  me  up  in  the  cabin.  I 
knocked  and  called  to  no  purpose,  until  the  cabin-boy 
came  and  opened  the  door.  I,  all  in  tears,  desired  him 
to  be  so  good  as  to  give  me  his  thrum  cap  and  tarred 
coat,  which  he  did,  and  I  gave  him  a  half-a-crown  ;  and 
putting  them  on,  and  flinging  away  my  night-clothes,  I 
crept  up  softly,  and  stood  upon  the  deck  by  my  husband's 
side,  as  free 'from  sickness  and  fear  as,  I  confess,  of 
discretion ;  but  it  was  the  effect  of  the  passion  which  I 
could  never  master.  By  this  time  the  two  vessels  were 
engaged  in  parley,  and  so  well  satisfied  with  speech  and 
sight  of  each  other's  force,  that  the  Turk's  man-of-war 
tacked  about,  and  we  continued  our  course.  But  when 
your  father  saw  it  convenient  to  retreat,  looking  upon  me, 
he  blessed  himself,  and  snatched  me  up  in  his  arms, 
saying,  '  Good  God !  that  love  can  make  this  change  J ' 
10* 


114  CONJUGAL  AFFECTION. 

and  though  he  seemingly  chid  me,  he  would  laugh  at  it 
as  often  as  he  remembered  that  voyage." 

When  Sir  Richard  Fanshawe  was  taken  prisoner 
during  the  civil  war,  and  was  confined  in  a  little  room 
in  Whitehall,  the  fidelity  of  his  wife  was  no  less  remark- 
able. "  During  the  time  of  his  imprisonment,"  she  says, 
"  I  failed  not  constantly,  when  the  clock  struck  four  in 
the  morning,  to  go,  with  a  dark  lantern  in  my  hand,  all 
alone  and  on  foot,  from  my  lodgings  in  Chancery  Lane, 
at  my  cousin  Young's,  to  Whitehall,  by  the  entry  that 
went  out  of  King-street  into  the  Bowling  Green.  There 
I  would  go  under  his  window,  and  call  him  softly.  He, 
excepting  the  first  time,  never  failed  to  put  out  his  head 
at  the  first  call.  Thus  we  talked  together,  and  some- 
times I  was  so  wet  with  rain,  that  it  went  in  at  my  neck 
and  out  at  my  heels." 

Through  the  active  and  unceasing  entreaties  of  Lady 
Fanshawe,  her  husband  was  liberated ;  and  this  happy 
pair,  whose  fidelity  to  their  unfortunate  sovereign  and 
each  other  was  so  exemplary,  lived  to  witness  the  restora- 
tion of  Charles  the  Second.  Sir  Richard  Fanshawe  was 
shortly  afterwards  sent  to  Lisbon,  charged  with  that  king's 
letter  and  picture  to  the  princess  Catharine  of  Braganza  ; 
and  soon  after  his  return  was  appointed  ambassador  to 
Madrid,  whither  he  was  accompanied  by  his  family. 
He  had  been  recalled  thence,  and  his  successor,  Lord 
Sandwich,  had  arrived;  but  while  preparing  for  his 
return  to  England,  Sir  Richard  was  seized  with  fever, 
which  in  a  few  days  ended  his  life.  There  is  something 
very  affecting  in  the  composure  with  which  his  widow 
relates  all  the  circumstances  of  her  own  return ;  without 
any  parade  of  grief,  we  feel  that  her  joy  in  this  life  is 
over.  "Never,"  she  says,  "any  ambassador's  family 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION.  115 

came  to  Spain  more  gloriously,  or  went  out  more  sad." 
The  Spanish  court  seems  to  have  felt  very  sincerely  for 
her  condition,  and  the  queen  gave  one  very  extraordinary 
instance  of  her  personal  regard,  actually  offering  her  a 
pension  of  30,000  ducats  a  year,  and  to  provide  for  her 
children,  if  she  and  they  would  change  their  religion  and 
become  Roman  Catholics.  Her  answer,  in  most  cour- 
teous and  grateful  language,  told  the  queen  that  she 
could  not  quit  the  faith  in  which  God  had  been  pleased 
to.  try  her  for  many  years,  in  the  greatest  troubles  our 
nation  had  ever  seen,  and  that  she  did  believe  and  hope 
in  the  profession  of  her  own  religion. 

Lady  Fanshawe  survived  her  husband  thirteen  years, 
and  at  her  death,  A.D.  1679 — 1680,  was  interred,  by 
her  own  desire,  close  to  his  side,  in  the  chapel  of  St. 
Mary's,  Ware. 

COLONEL  AND  MRS.  HUTCHINSON. 
•  "  0  Happiness,  enjoyed  but  of  a  few ! "  —  SHAKSPEARB. 

AMONG  the  many  characters  which  illuminated  by  the 
brightness  of  their  virtues  that  darkest  season  in  our 
national  annals,  the  season  of  civil  discord  and  dissen- 
sion, were  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Lucy  Hutchinson ;  pre- 
eminently distinguished  for  their  conjugal  affection,  they 
united  in  the  support  of  the  Parliamentary  side,  which 
they  had  espoused  from  sincere  conviction ;  and  it  is 
delightful  to  trace  their  progress  through  the  varied  and 
thorny  path  which  they  had  chosen.  The  record  which 
Mrs.  Lucy  Hutchinson  has  herself  transmitted  to  us  of 
her  husband's  life  is  a  lasting  memorial  of  her  attachment 
to  him,  and  cannot  be  perused  without  feeling  the  most 
sincere  sympathy  with  the  writer.  In  describing,  after  a 
long  life,  the  sentiment  which  she  was  conscious  of  having 


116  CONJTOAI    AFFECTION. 

at  first  excited  in  Colonel  Hutchinson,  his  lady  writes 
thus,  "Never  was  there  a  passion  more  ardent  and  less 
idolatrous ;  he  loved  her  better  than  his  life ;  with  inex- 
pressible tenderness  and  kindness;  had  a  most  high 
obliging  esteem  of  her;  yet  still  considered  honor,  reli- 
gion and  duty,  above  her,  nor  ever  suffered  the  intrusion 
of  such  a  dotage  as  should  blind  him  from  marking  her 
imperfections."  That  it  was  "  not  her  face  he  loved," 
but  "  her  honor  and  her  virtue  were  his  mistresses," 
he  abundantly  proved,  for,  "on  the  day  fixed  for  the 
marriage,  when  the  friends  of  both  parties  were  assem- 
bled, and  all  were  waiting  the  appearance  of  the  bride,  she 
was  suddenly  seized  with  an  illness,  at  that  time  often 
the  most  fatal  to  life  and  beauty.  She  was  taken  ill  of 
small-pox  :  was  for  some  time  in  imminent  danger ;  and, 
at  last,  when  her  recovery  was  assured,  the  return  of 
her  personal  attractions  was  rendered  more  than  doubtful. 
She  says,  indeed,  herself,  that  her  illness  made  her,  fora 
long  time  after  she  had  regained  her  health,  '  the  njost 
deformed  person  that  could  be  seen.'  But  Mr.  Hutchin- 
son's  affection  was  as  strong  as  his  honor.  He  neither 
doubted  nor  delayed  to  prosecute  his  suit,  but,  thankful 
to  God  for  her  preservation,  he  claimed  her  hand  as  soon 
as  she  was  able  to  quit  her  chamber;  and  when  the 
clergyman  who  performed  the  service,  and  the  friends 
who  witnessed  it,  were  afraid  to  look  at  the  wreck  of  her 
beauty.  He  was  rewarded ;  for  her  features  were 
restored,  unblemished  as  before ;  and  her  form,  when  he 
presented  her  as  his  wife,  justified  his  taste  as  much  as 
her  more  intrinsic  qualities  did  his  judgment.  They 
were  united  to  each  other  on  the  3d  of  July,  1638. 

"  The  early  part  of  their  married  life  was  spent  in  the 
enjoyment  of  a  happy  retirement,  first  at  Enfield,  and 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  Ill 

afterwards  at  Owthorpe,  to  which  they  removed  in  1641, 
and  where  they  continued  to  live  quiet,  and  keep  cieal 
of  public  affairs,  and  exercise  their  hospitality,  till,  as 
Mrs.  Hutchinson  expresses  it,  'the  country  began  to  blaze 
out  with  the  long- conceived  flame  of  civil  wars.'  It  was 
impossible  that  the  political  sentiments  of  any  one  could 
remain  longer  undecided.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hutchinson 
were*oo  happy  in  domestic  life  not  to  regret  the  inter- 
ruption of  their  tranquillity  which  they  were  likely  to 
incur  by  interfering  in  the  public  quarrel.  Nevertheless, 
as  Ireton  was  their  much-esteemed  relative  and  neighbor, 
and  used  all  his  influence  with  them  to  strengthen  their 
predilection  for  the  Parliament's  cause,  they  became,  in 
heart,  more  and  more  inclined  to  it,  and  only  needed 
some  stimulus  to  bring  them  into  action.  Mrs.  Hutch- 
inson's  sentiments,  it  appears,  were  quite  as  decided  as 
her  husband's ;  though  her  own  brother  continued  to  the 
last  untainted  in  his  loyalty.  This  was  but  natural  in  a 
wife  so  devoted  as  she  was.  Sympathy  with  her  hus- 
band is  one  of  the  most  marked  features  in  her  character. 
She  enters  into  all  his  feelings,  all  his  occupations,  and 
all  his  interests.  Whether  he  studies  divinity  at  Enfield 
Chase,  or  plants  trees  at  Owthorpe,  or  plans  redoubts  at 
Nottingham  Castle,  she  takes  an  equal  share  in  what- 
ever, at  the  time,  engrosses  his  attention.  This,  we 
learn,  not  because  she  tells  us  so,  but  because  she  shows 
an  intimate  acquaintance  with  everything  in  which  he 
is  engaged.  She  enters,  indeed,  into  details  upqn  sub- 
jects which,  in  themselves,  could  not  be  of  any  interest 
tc  her;  and  entirely  forgets  herself,  and  her  own  con- 
cerns, in  narrating  matters  which  refer  exclusively  to 
her  husband.  And  therefore,  though* we  may  lament, 
we  cannot  wonder  at  her  political  bias.  Mr.  Hutchinson 


118  CONJUGAL  AFFECTION. 

was  a  domestic  man ;  he  loved  his  wife,  his  children, 
his  studies,  his  garden;  and,  probably,  could  he  have 
continued  to  have  enjoyed  these,  he  would  never  have 
unsheathed  his  sword  in  the  national  quarrel.  But  the 
die  was  cast.  England  was  become  a  battle-field,  and 
individuals  were  compelled  4o  seek  shelter  under  one  or 
other  of  the  rival  standards.  Already  Mr.  Hutchinson 
was  a  marked  man,  and  a  fugitive  from  his  hom^nd 
family.  With  this  latter  condition  he  was,  of  course, 
not  content."  At  the  time  the  king  left  Nottingham,  he 
endeavored  to  rejoin  his  wife  from  Northamptonshire, 
where  he  had  sought  a  temporary  refuge.  "  However, 
on  entering  a  village  that  lay  in  his  route,  he  found  it 
preoccupied  by  one  of  Prince  Rupert's  flying  squadrons, 
and  was  obliged,  with  all  haste,  to  retrace  his  steps ;  a 
letter,  too,  which  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Hutchinson,  informing 
her  of  his  disappointment,  was  intercepted.  About  this 
time,  Captain  Welsh,  an  officer  in  Prince  Rupert's  army, 
and  an  acquaintance  of  Sir  Allen  Apsley,*  availed 
himself  of  his  knowledge  of  the  latter,  to  call  on  Mrs. 
Hutchinson.  He  informed  her  of  the  fate  of  her  hus- 
band's letter;  and,  with  the  gallantry  natural  to  a  Cava- 
lier, lamented  that  a  lady  of  so  much  merit  should  be  so* 
unworthily  mated  that  her  husband  dare  not  even  show 
himself  in  her  society.  This  accusation  so  piqued  Mrs. 
Hutchinson  that  she  forgot  her  usual  prudence,  and  con 
descended  to  a  practical  frolic,  for  which  she  was  likely 
afterwards  to  have  paid  dear.  She  indignantly  contra- 
dicted Captain  Welsh's  assertion,  and  told  him  that,  to 
prove  its  falsehood,  she  would  immediately  present  him 
to  Mr.  Hutchinson.  Upon  which,  having  prevailed 
on  Mr.  George  Hutchinson,  then  in  the  house  with 
her,  to  personate  her  husband,  she  introduced  him  a* 

*  Brother  of  Mrs.  Hutchin,';on. 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  119 

such.  The  Cavalier  paid  his  respects  with  all  seeming 
courtesy,  declared  he  was  safe  under  her  protection,  and 
took  his  leave.  But  whilst  Mrs.  Hutchinson  and  her 
friends  were  amusing  themselves  with  the  trick  they  had 
played  off,  the  officer  reappeared,  bringing  a  brother  sol- 
dier with  him;  and  having  obtained  admittance  under 
the*  pretext  that  his  horse  had  cast  his  shoe,  they  took 
Mr.  George  Hutchinson  into  a  room  apart  from  the 
ladies,  and  apprehended  him  in  the  name  of  his  brother 
It  was  in  vain  that  he  disclaimed  his  identity  with  the 
person  they  sought  for ;  it  was  in  vain  that  his  sister-in- 
law  remonstrated  :  they  carried  him  off  as  a  prize  to  the 
army ;  and  it  was  not  till  he  arrived  at  Derby,  when 
Lord  Grandison,  a  cousin  of  Mrs.  Hutchinson's,  to  whom 
she  wrote  on  his  behalf,  and  the  Birons,  interfered,  that 
he  got  his  release.  Her  alarm  and  self-reproach  may  be 
conceived.  The  delicate  health  of  an  infant  daughter, 
who  was  born  a  few  days  after,  and  who  lived  only  four 
years,  was  ascribed  to  her  anxiety.  At  length,  however, 
her  mind  was  set  at  rest.  The  king's  forces  retired 
from  the  neighborhood  :  her  husband  and  brother-in-law 
returned  to  her  in  safety,  and  they  all  once  more  became 
inhabitants  of  Owthorpe. 

"  Not  long  after,  we  find  Mr.  Hutchinson  accepted 
from  the  Parliament  a  commission  of  lieutenant-colonel 
in  Colonel  Pierrepoint's  regiment  of  foot,  his  brother,  Mr. 
G.  Hutchinson,  being  major ;  and  took  with  his  troop  his 
quarters  at  Nottingham,  to  which  place  Mrs.  Hutchin- 
son and  her  children  were  subsequently  brought  by 
niq-ht  under  convoy  of  a  body  of  horse,  with  a  view  to 
^ieater  security  than  that  they  would  have  enjoyed  at 
Owthorpe.  Mrs.  Hutchinson  was  now  in  the  midst  of 
war,  and  an  eye-witness  of  her  husband's  perils  •  she 


120  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

heard  the  cannon  of  Nottingham  thunder  upon  the  queen's 
army  as  it  passed  by,  but  she  does  not  appear  to  have 
been  in  any  way  terrified  by  the  unlooked-for  dangers  to 
which  she  was  exposed.  She  becomes,  from  henceforth, 
the  soldier's  wife;  and  her  silence  with  regard  to  her 
own  feelings  is  the  best  proof  of  her  calmness  and  self- 
possession.  No  woman,  perhaps,  under  such  circum- 
stance, ever  said  so  little  about  her  individual  experience. 
She  does  not  indulge  even  in  ordinary  reflections ;  but 
writes  with  soldier-like  coolness,  and  with  the  sang-froid 
almost  of  an  official  reporter. 

"  Colonel  Hutchinson  received,  shortly  after,  a  very 
important  trust ;  for  the  forces  on  both  sides  being  with- 
drawn from  Nottingham  and  its  vicinity,  he  was  appointed 
governor  of  the  castle  there,  a  post  which  he  maintained 
to  the  end  of  the  war. 

"  The  following  year  Nottingham  Castle  was  threat- 
ened by  the  Earl  of  Newcastle,  who  challenged  it  to  sur- 
render ;  but  the  answer  returned  by  Colonel  Hutchinson 
was  that,  '  if  his  lordship  would  have  that  poor  castle,  he 
must  wade  to  it  in  blood.'  Accordingly,  preparations 
were  made  for  a  desperate  resistance ;  and  the  garrison 
were  religiously  and  solemnly  bound  '  to  be  faithful  to 
each  other,  and  to  hold  out  the  place  to  the  death.' 
There  was  little  hope  of  relief;  and  they  were  prepared 
to  be  reduced  to  the  utmost  extremity  that  thought  could 
reach.  Such  a  situation  demanded*  no  common  degree 
of  fortitude.  Mrs.  Hutchinson 's  courage  did  not  droop  : 
she  remained  shut  up  in  the  castle  with  her  husband, 
and  quietly  awaited  the  siege.  The  danger,  however, 
passed  by  them.  In  spite  of  his  menace,  the  Earl  of 
Newcastle  made  no  attempt  on  Nottingham,  but  directed 
forces  elsewhere.  As  governor's  \vife,  Mrs.  Hutchiiv 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  12., 

son  had  her  share  of  active  duties.  Her  husband  enter  • 
tamed  at  his  o\vn  table,  and  for  a  considerable  time  at 
ais  own  charge,  the  committee  of  Nottingham,  the  offi- 
cers of  the  garrison,  and  the  ministers  who  were  of  the 
Parliament  party.  JDhis,  of  course,  entailed  an  almost 
ruinous  expense  upon  himself,  and  no  inconsiderable 
charge  upon  his  lady.  His  charity,  too,  was  equal  to 
his  hospitality ;  and  in  this  his  wife  was  his  willing  and 
able  assistant.  She  dispensed  nourishment  and  medi- 
cine to  all  the  sick  and  wounded  soldiers,  and  assisted 
them  with  her  advice.  At  last  a  provision  was  made  for 
the  governor's  table  by  the  Parliament,  which  relieved 
Colonel  Hutchinson,  in  some  measure,  though  his  ex- 
penses always  exceeded  his  allowance." 

How  entirely  Mrs.  Hutchinson  was  of  the  same  mind 
a  with  her  husband  may  be  inferred  from  a  proposal  com- 
municated to  him  from  Sir  Richard  Biron,  (Colonel 
Hutchinson's  relative,)  then  governor  of  Newark,  that, 
"  if  he  would  give  up  his  trust,  and  go  into  Lord  Essex's 
army  for  the  present,  Sir  Richard  would  ftnd  a  pretence 
to  save  his  rents  and  estates,  and  use  his  interest  here- 
after to  beg  his  pardon ;  but  that  to  keep  a  castle  against 
his  king  was  a  rebellion  of  so  high  a  nature,  that  there 
would  be  no  color  left  to  ask  a  favor  for  him."  Colonel 
Hutchinson's  answer  was  worthy  his  own  and  his  wife's 
character,  and  a  better  cause.  "  Sir  Richard,"  he  said, 
"might  consider  that  there  was,  if  nothing  else,  so  much 
of  a  Biron's  blood  in  him,  that  he  should  very  rruch 
scorn  to  betray  or  quit  a  trust  he  had  undertaken  ;  but 
the  grounds  he  went  on  were  such,  that  he  very  much 
despised  such  a  thought  as  to  sell  his  faith  for  base 
rev/ards  or  fears,  and  therefore  could  not  consider  the 
loss  of  his  estate,  which  his  wife  was  as  willing  to  part 
11 


122  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

with  as  himself,  in  this  cause,  wherein  he  was  resolved 
to  persist,  in  the  same  place  in  which  it  had  pleased  God 
to  call  him  to  the  defence  of  it."  It  was  not  long  before 
his  resolution  was  put  to  the  proof.  The  citizens  of 
Nottingham  were,  for  the  most  parkin  their  hearts,  dis- 
affected to  the  Parliament,  and  consequently  on  the  look 
out  for  an  opportunity  to  betray  the  castle.  One  of 
them,  an  alderman,  when  it  was  his  turn  to  command 
the  watch,  took  occasion  to  let  into  the  town  the  governor 
01  Newark,  with  a  troop  of  six  hundred  men.  Their 
entrance  was  effected  so  secretly,  that  no  alarm  was  given 
to  the  castle ;  and,  in  the  morning,  Colonel  Hutchinson 
found  himself  shut  up  in  his  little  fortress,  with  a  garri- 
son of  no  more  than  eighty  men,  (for  many  of  his  sol- 
diers lodging  in  the  town  at  night  had  been  taken  pris- 
oners,) and  surrounded  by  a  hostile  army. 

Happily  he  was  enabled  to  despatch  messengers  to 
Leicester  and  Derby  to  desire  succors  ;  and,  determining 
to  hold  out  till  their  arrival,  he  endeavored  to  render  his 
station  as  annoying  as  he  could  to  those  who  occupied 
the  town.  On  the  third  day,  he  was  invited  to  a  parley 
in  St.  Nicholas'  Church,  which  he  gallantly  answered 
by  hoisting  a  red  flag  from  his  own  tower,  and  firing  a 
piece  of  cannon  or  two  at  the  steeple. 

During  the  siege,  Mrs.  Hutchinson  supplied  the  place 
of  surgeon,  there  being  none  in  the  garrison  ;  arid  on  this 
occasion  it  was  that  she  experienced  the  full  value  of 
the  practical  knowledge  of  medicine  which  her  mother 
had  imparted  to  her.*  Her  treatment  was  very  successful, 
for  most  of  the  wounded  who  fell  into  her  hands  recov- 

*  Lady  Apsley  had  acquired  a  knowledge  of  medicine  her- 
self from  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  to  whom  she  used  to  con  vey 
materials  for  those  experiments  carried  on  while  in  the  Tower 
of  which  her  husband  was  governor. 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION.  123 

ered ;  and  we  hear  of  only  one  old  man  who  bled  to 
death  before  he  could  be  brought  to  the  governor's  lady. 

At  the  end  of  five  days,  the  castle  was  relieved.  A 
party  from  the  neighboring  garrisons  of  Leicester  and 
Derby  obeyed  the  governor's  summons,  and,  on  their 
approach,  the  king's  forces  were  compelled  to  evacuate 
the  town.  At  the  time  of  their  retreat,  the  besieged 
made  a  sally  upon  them,  so  that  they  relinquished  their 
post  in  some  confusion.  They  had,  however,  during 
their  possession  of  Nottingham,  erected  a  fort  on  the 
bridge  over  the  Trent,  in  which  they  left  a  garrison, 
which  the  colonel  was  very  desirous  immediately  to  dis- 
possess; but,  as  the  reinforcement  from  Leicester  and 
Derby  could  not  be  prevailed  on  to  make  the  attempt, 
and  as  his  own  men  were  too  much  worn  out  for  him  to 
urge  them  to  complete  their  victory,  he  was  compelled  to 
give  up  his  purpose,  and  to  content  himself  with  return- 
ing to  the  castle,  and  bringing  with  him  his  companions 
in  success  to  partake  of  the  good  cheer  which  his  wife 
had  plentifully  provided.  She,  in  the  mean  time,  had 
not  been  idle.  With  the  assistance  of  one  gentleman, 
and  her  own  excellent  "  balsams  and  plasters,"  she  had 
dressed  all  the  wounds  of  her  own  soldiers  ;  and,  having 
taken  care  of  them,  her  compassion  was  naturally  ex- 
tended to  the  poor  bleeding  prisoners  whom  she  saw 
:onveyed  into  a  miserable  hole,  the  only  prison  in  the 
castle,  appropriately  called  the  "  Lion's  Den."  This  act 
of  humanity  was  not  approved  by  one  of  the  fanatics, 
who  "  abhorred  to  see  such  favor  to  the  enemies  of  God,'' 
*nd  who  was  still  more  scandalized  by  Colonel  Hutchin- 
son's  invitation  to  some  of  the  king's  officers  to  partake 
of  the  evening's  entertainment. 

During  the  period  of  her  husband's  command,  Mrs. 


124  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

Hutchinson  continued  to  remain  at  the  castle,  discharg 
ing  such  duties  as  have  been  specified,  and  assisting 
him,  in  his  arduous  office,  with  her  support  and  counsel. 
The  fidelity  of  the  colonel  was  frequently  assailed  by 
the  royal  party,  by  tempting  offers  of  favor,  money 
and  advancement,  if  he  would  betray  his  trust ;  but  his 
high  honor  would  never  permit  him  for  a  moment  to 
entertain  any  such  proposals,  from  however  high  a 
quarter  they  might  come,  and  Mrs.  Hutchinson  naturally 
takes  pleasure  in  enumerating  these  instances  of  her 
husband's  constancy.  The  composition  of  her  MemoirSj 
or,  at  any  rate,  the  preparing  materials  for  them,  and 
noting  down  events  as  they  occurred,  must  have  pleas- 
antly occupied  a  considerable  portion  of  her  time,  and 
beguiled  it  of  its  tediousness,  during  the  four  years  she 
was  s.hut  up  in  Nottingham  Castle.  Though  a  soldier's 
wife,  she  was  spared  much  of  the  anxiety  which  this 
situation  involves,  by  her  continual  presence  with  her 
husband.  She  was  almost  an  eye-witness  of  his  engage- 
ments; and  in  the  event  of  his  being  wounded  or  sick, 
she  would  have  had  the  satisfaction  of  giving  him  her 
personal  attendance.  Her  Memoirs  are  written  with 
particularity  and  accuracy ;  and  are  interesting,  were  it 
only  for  the  exhibition  which  they  afford  of  such  charac- 
ters as  her  own  and  her  husband's :  whilst  we  cannot 
justify  their  political  errors,  we  must  admire  their  integ- 
rity, piety,  honor,  and  generosity,  and  admit  that  they 
exercised  those  virtues  in  very  trying  circumstances. 

After  the  ascendency  of  Cromwell,  Colonel  Hutchinson, 
finding  his  counsels  neither  valued  nor  followed  by  the 
Protector,  felt  himself  at  liberty  to  seek  those  pleasures 
and  occupations  which  were  more  congenial  to  his  own 
and  his  lady's  taste.  Probably  the  few  years  which 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  125 

ensued  may  be  regarded  as  the  happiest  in  their  lives. 
Their  time  was  spent  profitably  and  agreeably.  Owthorpe, 
which  had  been  plundered  and  defaced  by  the  Royalists, 
was  now  rebuilt  and  fitted  up.  They  adorned  it  with 
gardens  and  plantations;  and  they  supplied,  in  the  best 
possible  manner,  the  wants  of  the  poor.  Their  charity, 
indeed,  was  by  no  means  indiscriminate ;  they  took  meas- 
ures to  prevent  begging,  as  well  as  to  relieve  distress ; 
so  that,  though  their  neighborhood  had  been  infested 
with  vagrants,  "  there  was  suddenly  not  one  left  in  the 
country."  All  their  endeavor  was  to  promote  morality 
and  happiness ;  and  they  appear  to  have  been  successful ; 
for  the  indigent  were  assisted,  the  disorderly  restrained, 
and  the  industrious  encouraged. 

After  the  death  of  Cromwell,  the  more  active  virtues  of 
Colonel  and  Mrs.  Hutchinson  were  brought  into  requi- 
sition, and  the  latter  found  her  courage  more  than  once 
of  great  avail.  Once  in  particular,  in  a  scuffle  which 
took  place  at  Nottingham,  Mrs.  Hutchinson  distinguished 
herself  in  the  following  manner.  The  soldiers  were 
arraying  themselves  in  the  adjoining  meadows  for  a 
regular  assault  upon  the  town,  and  the  citizens,  on  their 
side,  were  mustering  for  their  defence,  when  she  happened 
to  drive  into  Nottingham.  Mrs.  Hutchinson,  seeing  the 
danger,  resolved  herself  to  act  as  mediator.  She  went 
first  to  the  soldiers,  and,  addressing  their  captains,  en- 
treated them  to  desist ;  to  be  guilty  of  no  violence,  but  to 
refer  all  their  complaints  to  the  general.  On  the  other 
hand,  she  persuaded  the  citizens  to  greater  moderation, 
prevailed  on  them  to  restrain  their  children,  who,  as 
usual,  acted  as  the  light  infantry  of  the  mob;  and,  in 
short,  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  cessation  of  hostilities. 
Her  conduct  in  this  instance  shows  how  much  may  be 


126  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

effected  by  female  courage  and  address.  1  o  be  a  peace* 
maker  is  the  legitimate  province  of  a  woman,  and  often 
requires,  as  on  the  present  occasion,  as  much  coolness  ana 
presence  of  mind  as  the  exploits  of  active  valor.  Mrs. 
Hutchinson  sent  the  reports  of  what  had  happened  to  her 
husband,  whose  intercession  with  General  Monk  was  the 
means  of  saving  their  town  :  in  gratitude  for  which,  the 
citizens  elected  the  colonel  as  their  member,  a  few  days 
afterwards,  he  having  previously  refused  the  representa- 
tion of  the  county. 

Upon  the  restoration,  Mrs.  Hutchinson  found  herself 
called  upon  to  use  every  effort  in  behalf  of  her  husband  ; 
and  in  this  trying  emergency,  neither  her  presence  of 
mind,  nor  her  prudence,  forsook  her.  Thinking  she  per- 
ceived in  him  "  an  ambition  to  be  a  public  sacrifice,  she 
resolved,  herein  only  in  her  own  life,  to  disobey  him, 
and  to  improve  all  the  affection  he  had  for  her  for  his 
safety."  She  thus  prevailed  on  him  to  "  retire ;  for  she 
said,  she  would  not  live  to  see  him  a  prisoner.  With  her 
unquietness  she  drove  him  out  of  her  own  lodgings  into 
the  custody  of  a  friend,  in  order  to  his  further  retreat,  if 
occasion  should  be,  and  then  made  it  her  business  to 
solicit  all  her  friends  for  his  safety." 

It  was  a  great  relief  to  Mrs.  Hutchinson  to  find  that 
her  husband's  name  was  not  to  be  found  in  the  list  of 
those  who  were  excluded  from  pardon ;  but  she  could 
not  consent,  for  a  considerable  time,  to  his  surrendering 
himself  on  the  king's  proclamation.*1 

At  length,  being  accused  by  her  friends  of  obstinacy, 
shje  devised  an  expedient  by  which  she  thought  to  secure 

*  To  the  effect  that  such  of  the  late  king's  judges  as  did  not 
yield  themselves  prisoners  within  fourteen  days  should  receive 
no  pardon. 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION.  127 

his  safety  at  all  events.  She  wrote  to  the  Speaker  of 
the  House  of  Commons  herself,  in  her  husband's  name, 
stating  "  that,  by  reason  of  some  inconveniency  it  might 
be  to  him,  he  desired  not  to  come  under  custody,  and 
yet  should  be  ready  to  appear  at  their  call ;  and,  if  they 
intended  any  mercy  to  him,  begging  that  they  would 
begin  it  in  permitting  him  his  liberty  upon  his  parole, 
until  they  should  finally  determine  of  it."  By  this 
device,  she  thought  to  try  the  temper  of  the  House :  if 
they  granted  her  request,  all  was  well ;  if  they  denied  it, 
she  had  still  possession  „ of  her  husband.  How,  in  the 
latter  event,  she  would  have  made  her  affection  compati- 
ble with  his  honor,  does  not  appear;  however,  she  was 
not  tried.  Having  composed  her  epistle,  she  received 
the  welcome  intelligence  that  the  temper  of  the  House 
was,  at  that  time,  very  favorable  to  the  colonel ;  so, 
without  further  hesitation,  she  copied,  as  well  as  she 
eould,  her  husband's  signature,  and  relying  for  the  suc- 
cess of  her  pious  fraud  upon  the  similarity  of  their  hand- 
writings, and  upon  his  custom  of  employing  her  as  his 
amanuensis,  she  despatched  her  letter. 

Her  efforts,  and  those  of  Sir  Allen  Apsley,  were  not 
in  vain.  Sir  Allen,  as  might  be  expected,  used  all  his 
influence;  and  Colonel  Hutchinson  had  many  friends 
among  the  most  honorable  members.  Yet  he  could 
never  be  brought  to  profess  repentance ;  and  it  was  to 
the  interest  of  his  brother-in-law  that  he  finally  owed  the 
insertion  of  his  name  in  the  act  of  oblivion.  After  this, 
Colonel  and  Mrs.  Hutchinson  returned  to  their  quiet 
retreat  at  Owthorpe,  reduced  their  establishment,  and 
conformed  to  the  new  dynasty. 

On  the  ensuing  session  of  Parliament,  Mrs.  Hutchinson 
was  sent  by  her  husband  to  town,  to  endeavor  to  pre/ent 


128  CONJUGAL  AFFECT.  ON. 

the  passing  of  a  bill  which  would  have  burthened  his 
estate  with  a  large  debt.  Whilst  there,  her  fidelity  was 
tried  on  a  point  where  it  was  most  assailable.  A  kins- 
man of  hers,  being  one  evening  in  a  more  than  usually 
communicative  mood,  told  her  that  he  had  heard  the  king 
express  himself  in  no  very  favorable  terms  towards  her 
husband.  "  They  had  saved  a  man,"  he  said,  "  who  would 
do  the  same  thing  for  him  he  had  done  for  his  father,  for 
he  was  still  unchanged  in  his  principles,  and  readier  to 
protect  than  accuse  any  of  his  associates."  Mrs.  Hutch- 
inson's  relation  then  expatiated  on  the  contumacy  of  the 
colonel,  and  assuring  her  that  his  pardon  would  never 
pass  the  seals,  — a  form  which  as  yet  had  not  been  ex- 
ecuted,—  he  endeavored  to  extract  from  her  what  could 
not  be  obtained  from  her  husband.  He  told  her  "  how 
all  the  statesmen's  wives  had  volunteered  their  informa- 
tion ;"  how  it  was  understood,  "  that  she  knew  more  than 
all  the  rest ;"  how  intimate  she  and  the  colonel  had  been 
with  the  leaders  of  their  party;  and,  finally,  how  incum. 
bent  it  was  upon  her  to  evince  her  gratitude  to  the  gov- 
ernment—  a  gratitude  which,  he  added,  would  be  under- 
stood as  referring  not  merely  to  favors  past,  but  to  benefits 
to  come.  In  short,  he  intimated  to  her  that  her  hus- 
band's safety,  and  her  family's  welfare,  were  suspended 
in  a  balance,  of  which  she  might  turn  the  scales. 

But  her  fidelity  was  proof  against  temptation.  Not 
even  her  conjugal  love  would  induce  her  to  betray  a  trust 
which  had  been  committed  to  her ;  and  though  she  was 
in  possession  of  confidence  which  she  might  have  sold 
very  dear,  she  gave  no  intimation  of  what  she  knew. 
Whatever  the  circumstances  were  to  which  she  was 
privy,  she  never  divulged  them ;  she  had  the  forbearance 
oven  not  to  commit  them  to  paper,  nor  intrust  them  tc 


CONJTTGAL    AFFECTION.  129 

any  one  ;  and  she  may  fairly  challenge  the  quality  so 
rarely  allowed  to  her  sex,  of  being  able  to  keep  a  secret. 
Her  friend,  finding  her  steadfast,  was  touched  by  her 
honorable  conduct,  and  advised  her,  in  all  kindness,  to 
prevail  on  her  husband  immediately  to  l«dve  England. 
And  when  she  inquired  from  whence  was  his  danger, 
and  expressed  her  confidence  in  the  act  of  oblivion,  she 
was  assured  that,  "  on  the  least  pretence,  the  colonel 
would  be  imprisoned,  and  never  let  loose  again."  This 
friendly  hint  was  not  adopted,  although  Mrs.  Hutchinson 
strongly  urged  her  husband's  departure,  and  they  re- 
mained at  Owthorpe, occupied  as  before  in  rural  pursuits, 
"  planting  trees  and  dressing  plantations  ; "  thus  giving 
employment  to  many  laborers,  who  blessed  them  for 
their  kindness  and  charity.  These  recreations,  together 
with  "  the  serious  revolving  the  law  of  God,  and  the 
instruction  of  their  children  and  servants  in  it,"  made 
them  happy  in  their  retirements,  and  caused  them  "  not 
to  envy  the  glories  of  the  court." 

The  pardon  accorded  to  the  colonel  was,  however, 
only  a  delay  of  punishment.  On  Sunday,  October  llth, 
1663,  he  was  apprehended,  and  conveyed  as  a  prisoner 
to  Newark,  from  which  place,  on  the  31st  of  the  same 
month,  he  was  removed  to  London  :  thither  his  wife 
accompanied  him.  She  was,  to  use  her  own  words, 
"  exceedingly  sad  "  but  he  "  encouraged  and  kindly  chid 
her  out  of  it;"  telling  her  that  her  dejection  would 
prejudice  his  cause.  On  the  20th  of  the  next  month,  she 
saw  him  committed,  on  suspicion  of  treasonable  practices, 
to  the  Tower.  At  this,  her  spirit  sunk  within  her ;  and, 
although  for  his  sake  she  restrained  her  grief,  she  could 
not  overcome  her  melancholy  forebodings,  or  forbear  from 
interpreting  her  present  calamity  as  the  fulfilment  cf  the 


130  CONJUGAL    AFFECTION. 

prediction  she  had  received,  some  time  before,  from  het 
kinsman.  She  was  allowed  the  satisfaction  of  visiting 
her  husband,  except  during  a  short  period,  when  his 
confinement  having  been  made  more  strict,  she  was 
indebted  to  tl^e  solicitations  of  her  brother,  the  kind  Sir 
Allen,  for  her  readmission.  These  interviews  were, 
however,  only  permitted  in  the  presence  of  the  lieu- 
tenant, whose  conduct  she  could  not  help  contrasting 
with  that  ot  her  father  in  the  same  trust.  He  was  as 
cruel  and  tyrannical  as  the  latter  had  been  merciful  and 
benevolent. 

It  may  be  concluded  that  Mrs.  Hutchinson  was  not 
remiss  in  her  endeavors  for  the  colonel's  release.  She 
expostulated  with  many  of  the  privy-councillors,  and 
being  referred  to  Sir  H.  Bennet,  then  newly  made  secre- 
tary, as  the  "  sole  actor  in  the  business,"  she  solicited 
and  obtained  an  interview  with  him.  This,  however, 
was  far  from  encouraging.  "  Your  husband,"  he  said 
to  her,  "  is  a  very  unfortunate  person  with  regard  to  his 
former  crimes."  "  I  had  hoped,  rather,"  she  replied, 
"  he  had  been  happy  in  the  act  of  oblivion,  which 
allowed  him  not  to  be  remembered  as  a  criminal."  The 
secretary's  final  answer  left  her  little  hope  :  "  he  could 
not,"  he  said,  "  move  for  any  more  liberty  to  her  husband 
than  he  had,  unless  he  could  be  secured  it  might  be  done 
with  more  safety  to  his  majesty  than  he  could  appre- 
hend it." 

In  the  spring  she  paid  a  short  visit  to  Owthorpe,  and 
:n  her  return  the  lieutenant  of  the  Tower  refused  to 
admit  her  to  her  husband,  whom  he  had  treated  with 
great  indignity  during  her  absence.  An  appeal  to  the 
secretary's  order  reprocured  her  her  privilege ;  and 
shortly  after,  Colonel  Hutchinsou  being  removed  to 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  13. 

Sandown  Castle,  in  Kent,  Mrs.  Hutchinson  and  some 
of  her  children  followed  him  there.  She  used  every 
possible  entreaty  to  be  permitted  to  reside  with  her 
husband  in  the  castle,  but  her  request  being  refused,  she 
took  lodgings  for  herself  and  her  daughter  at  Deal,  from 
whence  they  daily  walked  to  Sandown,  after  dinner. 
Thus  they  cheered  the  colonel's  solitude,  and  rendered 
his  long  imprisonment  supportable.  In  their  walks  they 
collected  for  him  cockle-shells,  "  which  he  arranged  with 
as  much  delight  as  he  used  to  take  in  the  richest  agates 
and  onyxes."  This  was  at  least  a  harmless  diversion, 
and  helped  to  wile  away  the  tediousness  of  the  day. 
The  study  of  the  Scriptures  was  their  chief  occupation. 
Wlien  Mrs.  Hutchinson  brought  her  husband  some  books 
from  Owthorpe,  which  she  though^  might  entertain  him, 
he  thanked  her,  but  said,  that  as  long  as  he  lived  in 
prison,  he  would  read  nothing  but  his  Bible.  She  bore 
herself  all  her  own  toils  joyfully,  for  the  sake  of  him ; 
but  could  not  but  be  very  sad  at  the  sight  of  his  suffer- 
ings. His  affectionate  remonstrances,  however,  chid  her 
grief  into  subjection,  and  his  cheerfulness  revived  her 
spirits ;  still  she  could  not  banish  the  presentiment  that 
he  would  die  in  prison,  though  she  was  far  from  antici- 
pating the  speedy  fulfilment  of  her  sad  forebodings. 

In  the  autumn  of  this  year  she  found  it  necessary  to 
go  to  Owthorpe.  She  left  her  husband  very  reluctantly ; 
and  when  he  gave  her  various  directions  as  to  his  trees 
and  garden,  she  said  to  him  :  "  You  give  me  these 
orders  as  if  you  were  to  see  that  place  again."  "  If  I  do 
not,"  he  replied,  "  I  can  cheerfully  forego  it;  but  I  will 
not  distrust  that  God  will  bring  me  back,  and  therefore 
I  will  take  care  to  keep  it  whilst  I  have  it."  She  parted 
from  him  under  considerable  apprehension  lest  he  should 


132  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

be  removed  out  of  the  kingdom  during  her  absence  ;  her 
fears  were  not  in  this  way  realized  ;  but  she  never  saw 
him  again.     A  few  days  after  her  departure,  he  was 
seized  with  a  fever,  which  removed  him  from  this  world 
before  she  could  return  to  receive  his  last  farewell ;  and 
the  account  which  his  wife  received  of  his  last  moments 
was  her  most  effectual  consolation  under  her  afflicting 
bereavement.     The  message,  too,  sent  to  her  by  him, 
showed  his  appreciation  of  her  character,  and  encouraged 
her  to  exertion  in  the  midst  of  her  overwhelming  sorrow. 
"  Let  her,"  said  he,  "  as  she  is  above  other  women,  show 
herself,  on  this  occasion, a  good  Christian,  and  above  the 
pitch  of  ordinary  women."     With  this  exhortation  she 
complied  ;  indulging  in  no  repinings,  but  dwelling  rather 
on  her  long  enjoyment  of  her  blessing  than  now  bewail- 
ing its  loss.     The  recollection  of  her  husband,  and  of  her 
happiness  with  him,  formed  from  henceforth  her  chief 
consolation,  and  by  perpetually   bringing  him  and   his 
actions  before  her  mind,  she  in  idea  prolonged  his  exist- 
ence. .  .  .*     For  the  benefit  of  her  children,  she  drew 
a  portraiture  of  him  whom  they  had  lost ;  and  considered 
/hat  in  doing  so  she  best  obeyed  the  dying  command  of 
her  husband,  as  may  be  seen  from  the  following  passage, 
which  is  extracted  from  this  touching  memorial  of  affec- 
tion :    "  They,"  she  says,  "  who  dote  on  mortal  excel- 
lences, when,  by  the  inevitable  fate  of  all  things  frail, 
their  adored  idols  are  taken  from  them,  may  let  loose  the 
winds  of  passion  to  bring  in  a  flood  of  sorrow,  whose 
ebbing  tides  carry  away  the  dear  memory  of  what  they 
have  lost :  and  when  comfort  is  essayed  to  such  mourn- 
ers,  commonly  all  objects  are  removed  out  of  their  view, 

*  Sandford's  English  Female  "Worthies. 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  135 

which  may  with  their  remembrance  renew  their  grief; 
and,  in  time,  these  remedies  succeed,  when  oblivion's 
curtain  is,  by  degrees,  drawn  over  the  dead  faces,  and 
things  less  lovely  are  liked,  while  they  are  not  viewed 
together  with  that  which  was  most  excellent ;  but  I  that 
am  under  a  command  not  to  grieve  at  the  common  rate 
of  desolate  women,  while  I  am  studying  which  way  to 
moderate  my  woe,  and,  if  it  were  possible,  to  augment 
my  love,  can  for  the  present  find  out  none  more  just  to 
your  father,  nor  consolatory  to  myself,  than  the  preserva- 
tion of  his  memory."  And  Mrs.  Hutchinson's  end  was 
attained  to  her  utmost  desire ;  her  memoirs  of  her  hus- 
band's life  have  descended  to  our  own  times,  as  a  lasting 
record  of  his  virtues  and  her  own  affection  ;*  they  con- 
tain not  only  a  fund  of  instruction  for  the  improvement 
of  the  historical  reader,  but  afford  an  example  of  one  of 
the  most  pleasing  and  affecting  narratives  ever  penned 
by  the  hand  of  woman. 


LADY  RACHEL  RUSSEL. 

"  What !  gone  without  a  word  ? 
Ay,  so  true  love  should  do  :  it  cannot  speak ; 
For  truth  hath  better  deeds  than  words  to  grace  it." 

SHAKSPEARE. 

"  THE  reign  of  Charles  the  Second  was  as  much  graced 
by  the  connubial  affection  of  Lady  Rachel  Russel  as  it 
was  stained  by  the  death  of  her  virtuous  husband. 

"  That  unfortunate  young  nobleman  was  tried,  con- 
demned, and  executed,  on  a  charge  of  conspiracy.  The 

*  The  Life  of  Colonel  Hutchinson,  by  his  widow,  Lucy,  has 
recently  been  presented  to  the  public,  in  Mr.  Bonn's  Standard 
Library 

12 


134  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

day  before  his  trial,  he  asked  leave  of  the  court,  that 
notes  of  the  evidence  might  be  taken  for  his  use.  The 
attorney-general,  at  the  trial,  informed  him,  in  reply, 
that  he  would  be  permitted  to  avail  himself  of  the  assist* 
ince  of  one  of  his  servants,  for  that  purpose.  '  I  ask  no 
assistant,'  answered  the  prisoner,  '  but  that  lady  who 
sits  by  me.'  At  these  words,  the  spectators,  turning  their 
eyes  on  the  daughter  of  the  virtuous  Southampton,  who 
rose  to  assist  her  husband  in  his  distress,  could  not  refrain 
from  tears,  while  a  thrill  of  anguish  ran  through  the 
assembly.  Lady  Rachel  continued  to  take  notes  during 
the  whole  of  her  husband's  trial ;  and  after  his  condem- 
nation, she  threw  herself  at  the  feet  of  the  king,  and 
pleaded,  with  tears,  the  merits  and  loyalty  of  her  father, 
as  an  atonement  for  those  offences  into  which  her  hus- 
band had  been  drawn  by  honest,  though  erroneous,  prin- 
ciples. Charles  beheld,  unmoved,  the  daughter  of  his 
best  friend  weeping  at  his  feet,  and  even  rejected  her 
petition  for  a  respite  of  a  few  weeks :  the  only  conde- 
scension that  she  could  obtain  by  her  importunity  was  a 
mitigation  of  the  ignoble  part  of  the  sentence  into  that 
of  beheading ;  '  Merely,'  as  he  said,  '  to  show  Lord  Rus- 
sel  that  he  could  still  exercise  the  royal  prerogative.' 
These  tears  and  these  supplications  were  the  last  in- 
stances of  feminine  sorrow  which  Lady  Rachel  betrayed 
o'n  so  trying  an  occasion. 

"  On  rinding  every  effort  fruitless  for  saving  the  life 
of  her  husband,  she  collected  her  courage  and  fortified 
her  mind  for  the  fatal  stroke,  confirming,  by  her  example, 
the  resolution  of  her  lord.  When  parting  from  him, 
Lady  Russel  commanded  herself  with  "heroic  fortitude, 
and  they  mutually  preserved  a  solemn  and  affecting 
silence.  After  she  was  gone,  Lord"  Russel  exclaimed, 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  135 

'  Mow  the  bitterness  of  drath  is  past/  Lady  Russel 
susta:ned  the  loss  of  this  beloved  and  worthy  husband 
with  the  same  heroism  which  she  had  displayed  during 
his  trial  and  imprisonment:  when,  in  open  court,  attend- 
ing by  his  side,  and  taking  notes  of  all  that  passed  in  his 
favor ;  when,  a  suppliant  at  the  feet  of  the  king,  she 
pleaded  for  a  life  so  precious  to  her,  in  the  name  and  for 
the  services  of  a  deceased  father;  when,  in  meek  and 
solemn  silence,  without  suffering  a  tear  to  escape  her, 
3he  parted  forever  with  a  husband  so  deservedly  beloved ; 
she  appears  equally  an  object  of  sympathy,  admiration, 
and  reverence." 


THE   FIRST  WIFE   OF  MILTON. 

"  Such  virtues  must  prevail,  and  day  by  day 
Perfect  their  power  ;  for,  though  of  gentlest  kind, 
Yet  urged,  perpetual,  such  the  sternest  heart 
Must  gradual  soften,  and  at  length  subdue. 
Hast  thou  not  seen  the  fountain's  falling  drops 
Scoop  in  long  time-the  most  obdurate  stone  ?  " 

MASON  GOOD'S  Lucretius. 

MILTON  had  not  lived  long  with  his  first  wife  before  a 
difference  arose,  which  ended  in  a  separation  ;  the  lady 
returned  to  the  house  of  her  fath»  r,  and  Milton  published 
his  work,  on  the  "  Doctrine  and  D-Scipline  of  Divorces," 
with  the  intention,  it  is  said,  of  marrying  another  wife. 
In  this,  however,  he  was  prevented,  by  a  singular  recon- 
ciliation with  the  lady  from  whom  he  had  separated. 
One  day,  when  he  was  visiting  a  friend,  his  wife,  who 
had  been  planted  in  the  adjoining  room,  burst  suddenly 
upon  him,  and  he  was  surprised  to  find  one  whom  he 
thought  never  to  have  seen  again  making  submission, 
and  begging  pardon  on  her  knees  before  him.  His  own 


136  CONJTTGAL   AFFECTION. 

generous  nature,  and  the  intercession  of  friends,  soot, 
effected  a  reconciliation,  and  they  lived  happily  together 
for  the  remainder  of  her  life. 

It  is  said  that  this  interview  left  such  impressions  on 
Milton's  imagination,  as  contributed  very  materially  to 
his  writing  that  beautifully  pathetic  scene  in  "  Paradise 
Lost,"  in  which  Eve  addresses  Adam  for  pardon  and 
peace.  The  passage  will  indeed  be  seen  to  be  strikingly 
applicable  : 

"  He  added  not,  and  from  her  turned  ;  but  Eve, 
Not  so  repulsed,  with  tears  that  ceased  not  flowing; 
And  tresses  all  disordered,  at  his  feet 
Fell  humble  ;  and,  embracing  them,  besought 
His  peace,  and  thus  proceeded  in  her  plaint. 

"  Forsake  me  not  thus,  Adam  !  witness  Heaven 
What  love  sincere,  and  reverence  in  my  heart, 
I  bear  thee,  and  unweeting  have  offended, 
Unhappily  deceived  !     Thy  suppliant 
I  beg,  and  clasp  thy  knees  ;  bereave  me  not 
(Whereon  I  live !)  thy  gentle  looks,  thy  aid, 
Thy  counsel,  in  this  uttermost  distress, 
My  only  strength  and  stay  !     Forlorn  of  thee, 
Whither  shall  I  betake  me  —  where  subsist  ? 
While  yet  we  live,  (scarce  one  short  hour  perhaps,) 
Between  us  two  let  there  be  peace." 


LADY  NITHSDALE    SAVES   HER    HUSBAND'S    LIFE. 

"  He  '11  go  along  o'er  the  wide  world  with  me  ; 
Leave  me  alone  to  woo  him  :  let 's  away, 
And  get  our  jewels  and  our  wealth  together ; 
Devise  the  fittest  time,  and  safest  way 
•  To  hide  us  from  pursuit  that  will  be  made 

After  my  flight :  now  go  we  in  content ; 
To  liberty,  and  not  to  banishment."  —  SHAKSPEAK.K. 

WINIFRED  HERBERT,  Countess  of  Nithsdale,  effected 
the  escape  of  her  husband  from  the  Tower  in  a  very 
remarkable  way. 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION.  137     „ 

The  Earl  of  Nithsdale  was  one  of  those  unfortunate 
persons  condemned  to  suffer  death  for  attempting  to  place 
the  Pretender  on  the  throne,  in  the  year  1715.  His  wife, 
hearing  that  he  had  been  committed  to  the  Tower,  and 
had  expressed  great  anxiety  to  see  her,  quitted  Scotland 
to  attend  him  in  his  captivity.  It  was  in  the  month  of 
February  that  the  countess  set  out  on  her  journey,  and 
by  the  time  she  reached  York,  the  snow  lay  so  deep  on 
the  ground  that  the  stage  could  not  proceed  any  further. 
Lady  Nithsdale,  in  consequence,  took  horse  and  con- 
tinued her  journey,  though  the  snow  was  most  part  of 
the  way  above  the  horse's  knees  :  even  the  post  had  been 
stopped  on  account  of  the  badness  of  the  roads  and 
inclemency  of  the  weather ;  but  the  conjugal  affection 
of  this  heroic  wife  overcame  every  obstacle,  and  she  . 
succeeded  in  reaching  London  in  safety.  Proceeding  at 
once  to  the  Tower,  she  requested  permission  to  see  her 
husband ;  but  this  melancholy  satisfaction  was  denied  to 
her  entreaties,  except  on  the  condition  that  she  would 
remain  with  him  as  a  prisoner.  This  the  countess 
would  not  agree  to,  as  she  knew  that  any  plan  she  might 
form  for  the  escape  of  her  husband  would  depend  entirely 
on  her  own  liberty.  She  next  applied  to  the  guards, 
with  whom,  by  means  of  bribes,  she  was  more  successful, 
and  gained  admittance  to  the  earl  not  only  on  this  occa- 
sion, but  on  every  day  which  intervened  between  that 
time  and  the  execution  of  the  sentence.  She  next 
endeavored  to  persuade  her  friends  at  court  to  use  their 
influence  in  her  husband's  favor,  but  no  hopes  were  given 
her. 

Lord  Nithsdale,  for  his  wife's  sake  more  than  for  his 
o\vn,  was  anxious  that  a  petition  should  be  presented  to 
the  king  in  his  behalf;  trusting,  by  this  means,  to  excit* 
13* 


138  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

for  her  his  sympathy  and  indulgence.  It  was  well  known 
lhat  the  king  was  especially  incensed  against  Lord  Niths- 
dale,  so  that  he  is  said  to  have  forbidden  that  any  peti- 
tion should  be  presented  for  him,  or  personal  address 
made  to  him  ;  but  the  countess,  in  obedience  to  her  lord's 
wish,  resolved  to  make  the  attempt,  and  accordingly 
repaired  to  court.  She  has  given,  with  her  own  pen,  the 
following  account  of  the  interview,  — very  little  credita- 
ble to  the  feelings  of  George  I.,  either  as  a  king  or  a 
gentleman  :  — 

"  So  the  first  day  that  I  heard  the  king  was  to  go  to 
the  drawing-room,  I  dressed  myself  in  black,  as  if  I  had 
been  in  mourning,  and  sent  for  Mrs.  Morgan  (the  same 
who  accompanied  me  to  the  Tower;)  because,  as  I  did 
not  know  his  Majesty  personally,  I  might  have  mistaken 
some  other  person  for  him.  She  stayed  by  me,  and  told 
me  when  he  was  coming.  I  had  another  lady  with  me, 
(Lady  Nairn,)  and  we  remained  in  a  room  between  the 
king's  apartments  and  the  drawing-room,  so  that  he  was 
obliged  to  go  through  it ;  and,  as  there  were  three  win- 
dows in  it,  we  sat  in  the  middle  one,  that  I  might  have 
time  enough  to  meet  him  before  he  could  pass.  I  threw 
myself  at  his  feet,  and  told  him,  in  French,  that  I  was 
the  unfortunate  Countess  of  Nithsdale,  that  he  might 
not  pretend  to  be  ignorant  of  my  person.  But,  perceiv- 
ing that  he  wanted  to  go  off  without  receiving  my  peti- 
tion, I  caught  hold  of  the  skirt  of  his  coat,  that  he  might 
stop  and  hear  me.  He  endeavored  to  escape  out  of  my 
hands ;  but  I  kept  such  strong  hold,  that  he  dragged  me 
on  my  knees  from  the  middle  of  the  room  to  the  very 
door  of  the  drawing-room.  At  last,  one  of  the  blue  rib- 
Dons  who  attended  his  Majesty  took  me  round  the  waist, 
while  another  wrested  the  coat  out  of  my  hands.  The 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  139 

petition,  which  I  had  endeavored  to  thrust  into  his  pocket, 
fell  down  in  the  scuffle,  and  I  almost  fainted  away,  through 
grief  and  disappointment.  One  of  the  gentlemen  in 
waiting  picked  up  the  petition  ;  and,  as  I  knew  that  it 
ought  to  have  been  given  to  the  lord  of  the  bed-chamber, 
who  was  then  in  waiting,  I  wrote  to  him,  and  entreated 
him  to  do  me  the  favor  to  read  the  petition  which  I  had 
had  the  honor  to  present  to  his  Majesty.  Fortunately 
for  me,  it  happened  to  be  my  Lord  Dorset,  with  whom 
Mrs.  Morgan  was  very  intimate.  Accordingly,  she  went 
into  the  drawing-room  and  delivered  him  the  letter,  which 
he  received  very  graciously.  He  could  not  read  it  then, 
as  he  was  at  cards  with  the  prince ;  but  as  soon  as  ever 
the  game  was  over,  he  read  it,  and  behaved  (as  I  after- 
wards learned)  with  the  wannest  zeal  for  my  interest, 
and  was  seconded  by  the  Duke  of  Montrose,  who  had 
seen  me  in  the  ante-chamber,  and  wanted  to  speak  to  me. 
But  I  made  him  a  sign  not  to  come  near  me,  lest  his 
acquaintance  might  thwart  my  designs.  They  read  over 
the  petition  several  times,  but  without  any  success ;  but 
it  became  the  topic  of  their  conversation  the  rest  of  the 
evening,  and  the  harshness  with  which  I  had  been  treated 
soon  spread  abroad,  not  much  to  the  honor  of  the  king.'' 

This  painful  scene  happened  on  Monday,  the  13th  of 
February,  and  seems  to  have  produced  no  result,  unless 
it  may  be  supposed  to  have  hastened  the  fate  of  the 
prisoners ;  for,  on  the  following  Friday,  it  was  decided  in 
council  that  the  sentence  against  them  should  be  carried 
into  effect. 

In  the  mean  while  Lady  Derwentwater,  (whose  husband 
was  one  of  the  condemned,)  and  other  ladies  of  high 
rank,  were  strenuous  in  their  efforts  to  avert  the  execu- 
tion of  the  sentence.  They  succeeded  in  obtaining  an 


140  CONJUGAL    AFFECTION. 

interview  with  the  king,  though  without  any  favoralle 
issue.  They  also  attended  at  both  houses  of  Parliament, 
to  present  petitions  to  the  members  as  they  went  in. 
These  exertions  had  a  decided  influence  on  the  feelings 
of  both  houses.  In  the  Commons,  a  motion  to  petition  the 
king  in  favor  of  the  delinquents  was  lost  by  only  seven 
votes ;  and  among  the  Lords,  a  still  stronger  personal 
feeling  and  interest  was  excited :  but  all  proved  unavail- 
ing; and  Lady  Nithsdale,  after  joining  with  the  other 
ladies  in  this  ineffectual  attendance,  at  length  found  that 
all  her  hope  and  dependence  must  rest  on  her  long-formed 
scheme  of  bringing  about  her  husband's  escape.  She 
had  less  than  twenty-four  hours  for  arranging  it  in  all  its 
details,  and  for  persuading  the  accomplices  who  would 
be  necessary  to  her  to  enter  into  so  hazardous  a  project. 
In  these  she  seems  to  have  been  peculiarly  fortunate ; 
the  female  friend  to  whom  she  communicated  her  inten- 
tions, indeed,  appears  to  have  been  possessed  of  fortitude 
and  good  sense  which  equalled  her  own.  In  an  interview 
with  the  earl,  Lady  Nithsdale  mentioned  her  project,  but, 
fearful  of  endangering  the  safety  of  his  beloved  wife,  (for 
a  wife  who  assists  her  husband  in  the  case  of  high  treason 
is  amenable  to  the  laws,)  the  earl  refused  his  consent 
for  some  time,  till,  seeing  her  trust  in  Providence  was  so 
firm,  he  resolved  no  longer  to  oppose  her  wishes,  and 
allowed  her  to  make  the  necessary  arrangements  with 
him. 

The  following  extract  of  a  letter  written  some  little 
time  after  this  event,  by  the  Countess  of  Nithsdale,  to  her 
sister,  the  Countess  of  Traquair,  will  serve  to  explain  the 
manner  in  which  the  extraordinary  escape  of  the  earl 
»vas  effected. 

"  As  the  motion  had  passed  generally,  (that  the  pett 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION.  141 

tion  should  be  read  in  the  Lords,  which  had  only  been 
carried  after  a  warm  debate,)  I  thought  I  would  draw 
some  advantage  in  favor  of  my  design.  Accordingly,  r 
immediately  left  the  House  of  Lords  and  hastened  to 
the  Tower,  where,  affecting  an  air  of  joy  and  satisfaction, 
I  told  all  the  guards  I  passed  that  I  came  to  bring  joyful 
tidings  to  the  prisoner.  I  desired  them  to  lay  aside 
their  fears,  for  the  petition  had  passed  the  house  in  their 
favor.  I  then  gave  them  some  money  to  drink  to  the 
Lords  and  his  Majesty,  though  it  was  but  trifling  ;  for  I 
thought  that  if  I  were  too  liberal  on  the  occasion,  they 
might  suspect  my  designs,  and  that  giving  them  some- 
thing would  gain  their  good  humor  and  services  for  the 
next  day,  which  was  the  eve  of  the  execution.  The  next 
morning  I  could  not  go  to  the  Tower,  having  so  many 
things  on  my  hands  to  put  in  readiness  ;  but,  in  the 
evening,  when  all  was  ready,  I  sent  for  Mrs.  Mills,  with 
whom  I  lodged,  and  acquainted  her  with  my  design  of 
attempting  my  lord's  escape,  as  there  was  no  prospect 
of  his  being  pardoned,  and  this  was  the  last  night  before 
the  execution.  I  told  her  that  I  had  everything  in  readi- 
ness, and  that  I  trusted  she  would  not  refuse  to  accompany 
me,  that  my  lord  might  pass  for  her.  I  pressed  her  to 
come  immediately,  as  we  had  no  time  to  lose.  At  the 
same  time,  I  sent  for  a  Mrs.  Morgan,  then  usually  known 
by  the  name  of  Hilton,  to  whose  acquaintance  my  dear 
Evans*  had  introduced  me,  and  to  whom  I  immediately 
communicated  my  resolution.  She  was  of  a  very  tall  and 
slender  make ;  so  I  begged  her  to  put  under  her  own 
riding-hood  one  that  I  had  prepared  for  Mrs.  Mills,  as 
she  was  to  lend  hers  to  my  lord.  Mrs.  Mills  was  then 

*  A  confidential  servant,  who  had  attended  the  countess  frooi 
Wales,  upon  her  marriage. 


142 


CONJUGAL    AFFECTION. 


pregnant :  so  that  she  was  not  only  of  the  same  height, 
but  nearly  the  same  size,  as  my  lord.     When  we  were  in 
the  coach,  I  never  ceased  talking,  that  they  might  have 
no  leisure  to  reflect.     Their  surprise  and  astonishment, 
when  I  first  opened  my  design  to  them,  had  made  them 
consent  without  ever  thinking  of  the  consequences.     On 
our  arrival  at  the  Tower,  the  first  I  introduced  was  Mrs. 
Morgan,  for  I  was  only  allowed  to  take  one  in  at  a  time. 
She  brought  in  the  clothes  that  were  to  serve  Mrs.  Mills, 
when  she  left  her  own  behind  her.     When  Mrs.  Morgan 
had  taken  off  what  she  had  brought  for  my  purpose,  I 
conducted   her  back  to  the   staircase,  and,  in  going,  I 
begged  her  to  send  me  in  my  maid  to  dress  me,  that  I  was 
afraid  of  being  too  late  to  present  my  last  petition  that 
night,  if  she  did  not  come  immediately.     I  despatched 
her  safe,   and  went  partly  down   stairs  to  meet  Mrs. 
Mills,  who  had  the  precaution  to  hold  her  handkerchief 
to  her  face,  as  was  very  natural  for  a  woman  to  do,  who 
was  going  to  bid  her  last  farewell  to  a  friend,  on  the  eve 
of  his  execution.     I  had,  indeed,  desired  her  to  do  it,  that 
my  lord  might  go  out  in  the  same  manner.     Her  eye- 
brows  were  rather  inclined  to  be  sandy,  and  my  lord's 
were  dark  and  very  thick  ;  however,  I  had  prepared  some 
paint    of  the  color  of  hers,  to  disguise  them ;    I  also 
brought  an  artificial  head-dress  of  the  same  colored  hair 
as  hers,  and  painted  his  face  with  white,  and  his  cheeks 
with  rouge,  to  hide  his  long  beard,  which  he  had   not 
time  to  shave.     All  this  provision  I  had  before  left  in  the 
Tower. 

"  The  poor  guards,  whom  my  slight  liberality  the  day 
before  had  endeared  me  to,  let  me  go  quietly  with  my 
company,  and  were  not  so  strictly  on  the  watch  as 
they  usually  had  been  ;  and  the  more  so,  as  from  what  I 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  14J 

had  told  them  the  day  before,  they  were  persuaded  that 
the  prisoners  would  obtain  their  pardon.  I  made  Mrs 
Mills  take  off  her  own  hood,  and  put  on  that  which  I  had 
brought  for  her.  I  then  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  led 
her  out  of  my  lord's  chamber ;  and,  in  passing  through 
the  next  room,  in  which  there  were  several  people,  with  all 
the  concern  imaginable  said,  '  My  dear  Mrs.  Catharine, 
go  in  all  haste,  and  send  me  my  waiting-maid ;  she  cer- 
tainly cannot  reflect  how  late  it  is  ;  she  forgets  that  I  am 
to  present  a  petition  to-night,  and  if  I  let  slip  this  oppor- 
tunity I  am  undone,  for  to-morrow  will  be  too  late. 
Hasten  her  as  much  as  possible,  for  I  shall  be  on  thorns 
till  she  comes.'  Every  person  in  the  room,  chiefly  the 
guards'  wives  and  daughters,  seemed  to  compassionate 
me  exceedingly ;  and  the  sentinel  officiously  opened  the 
door.  When  I  had  seen  her  out,  I  returned  back  to  my 
lord,  and  finished  dressing  him.  I  had  taken  care  that 
Mrs.  Mills  did  not  go  out  crying  as  she  came  in,  that  my 
lord  might  the  better  pass  for  the  lady  who  came  in 
crying  and  afflicted ;  and  the  more  so,  because  he  had 
the  same  dress  on  which  she  wore.  When  I  had  almost 
finished  dressing  my  lord  in  all  my  petticoats,  excepting 
one,  I  perceived  that  it  was  growing  dark,  and  was  afraid 
that  the  light  of  the  candles  might  betray  us,  so  I  resolved 
to  set  out.  I  went  out,  leading  him  by  the  hand ;  and* 
he  held  his  handkerchief  to  his  eyes.  I  spoke  to  him  in 
the  most  piteous  and  afflicted  tone  of  voice,  bewailing 
bitterly  the  negligence  of  Evans,  who  had  ruined  me  by 
her  delay.  Then,  said  I,  '  My  dear  Mrs.  Betty,  for  the 
love  of  God,  run  quickly  and  bring  her  with  you.  You 
Know  my  lodging,  and  if  you  ever  made  despatch  in  your 
life,  do  it  at  present,  for  I  am  almost  distracted  with  this 
disappointment.'  The  guards  opened  the  doors,  and  I 


144  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

went  down  stairs  with  him,  still  conjuring  him  to  make 
all  possible  despatch.  As  soon  as  he  had  cleared  the 
door,  I  made  him  walk  before  me,  for  fear  the  sentinel 
should  take  notice  of  his  gait ;  but  I  still  continued  to 
press  him  to  make  all  the  haste  he  possibly  could.  At 
the  bottom  of  the  steps  I  met  my  dear  Evans,  into  whose 
hands  I  confided  him.*  I  had  before  engaged  Mr.  Mills 
to  be  in  readiness  before  the  Tower,  to  conduct  him  to 
some  place  of  safety,  in  case  we  succeeded.  He  looked 
on  the  affair  as  so  very  improbable  to  succeed,  that  his 
astonishment  when  he  saw  us  threw  him  into  such  a 
consternation,  that  he  was  almost  beside  himself;  which 
Evans  perceiving,  with  the  greatest  presence  of  mind, 
without  telling  him  anything,  lest  he  should  mistrust 
them,  conducted  him  to  so.ne  of  her  own  friends,  on 
whom  she  could  rely,  and  so  secured  him,  without  which 
we  should  have  been  undone.  When  she  had  conducted 
him,  and  left  him  with  them,  she  returned  to  fin8  Mr. 
Mills,  who  by  this  time  had  recovered  from  his  astonish- 
ment. They  went  home  together,  and,  having  found  a 
place  of  security,  they  conducted  him  to  it.  In  the 
mean  while,  as  I  had  pretended  to  have  sent  the  young 
Jady  on  a  message,  I  was  obliged  to  return  up  stairs,  and 
go  back  to  my  lord's  room,  in  the  same  feigned  anxiety 
*of  being  too  late ;  so  that  everybody  seemed  sincerely 
to  sympathize  with  my  distress.  When  I  was  in  the 
room,  I  talked,  to  him  as  if  he  had  been  really  present ; 

*  Thus  one  more  person  had  left  Lord  Nithsdale's  prison  than 
had  entered  it.  Three  had  gone  in,  and  four  came  out.  But  so 
long  as  women  only  passed,  and  these  two  at  a  time,  the  guards 
probably  were  not  particularly  watchful.  This  inevitable  diffi 
culty  in  the  plan  of  the  escape  makes  Lady  Nithsdale's  admirable 
self-possession  of  manner  in  conducting  it  the  more  conspicuous 
Any  failure  on  her  part  would  have  awakened  the  suspicions  of 
the  bystanders. 


CONJUGAL    AFFECTION.  145 

and  answered  my  own  questions  in  my  lord's  voice,  as 
neaily  as  I  could  imitate  it.  I  walked  up  ind  down  as 
if  we  were  conversing-  together,  till  I  thought  they  had 
time  enough  thoroughly  to  clear  themselves  of  the 
guards.  I  then  thought  proper  to  make  off  also.  1 
opened  the  door,  and  stood  half  in  it,  that  those  in  the 
outward  chamber  might  hear  what  I  said  ;  but  held  it  so 
closely  that  they  could  not  look  in.  I  bid  my  lord  a 
formal  farewell  for  that  night  j  and  added,  that  something 
more  than  usual  must  have  happened  to  make  Evans 
negligent  on  this  important  occasion,  who  had  always 
been  so  punctual  in  the  smallest  trifle ;  that  I  saw  no 
other  remedy  than  to  go  in  person ;  that  if  the  Tower 
were  still  open  when  I  finished  my  business,  I  would 
return  that  night ;  but  that  he  might  be  assured  that  I 
would  be  with  him  as  early  in  the  morning  as  I  could 
gam  admittance  to  the  Tower ;  and  I  flattered  myself 
I  should  bring  favorable  news.  Then,  before  I  shut  the 
door,  I  pulled  the  string  through  the  latch,  so  that  it 
could  only  be  opened  on  the  inside.  I  then  shut  it  with 
some  degree  of  force,  that  I  might  be  sure  of  its  being 
well  shut.  I  said  to  the  servant  as  I  passed  by,  who 
was  ignorant  of  the  whole  transaction,  that  he  need  not 
carry  candles  in  to  his  master  till  my  lord  sent  for  him, 
as  he  desired  to  finish  some  prayers  first.  I  went  down 
stairs  and  called  a  coach,  as  there  were  several  on  the 
stand.  I  drove  home  to  my  lodging ;  where  poor  Mr. 
Mackenzie  had  been  waiting  to  carry  the  petition,  in  case 
my  attempt  failed.  I  told  him  there  was  no  need  of  any 
petition,  as  my  lord  was  safe  out  of  the  Tower,  and  out 
of  the  hands  of  his  enemies;  but  that  I  did  not  know 
where  he  was. 

"  I  discharged  the  coach,  and  sent  for  a  sedan-chair, 
13 


146  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

and  went  to  the  Duchess  of  Buccleugh,  who  expected  me 
about  that  time,  as  I  had  begged  of  her  to  present  the 
petition  for  me,  having  taken  my  precautions  against  all 
events.  I  asked  if  she  were  at  home,  and  they  answered 
that  she  expected  me,  and  had  another  duchess  with  her. 
I  refused  to  go  up  stairs,  as  she  had  company  with  her, 
and  I  was  not  in  a  condition  to  see  any  other  company. 
I  begged  to  be  shown  into  a  chamber  below  stairs,  and 
that  they  would  have  the  goodness  to  send  her  grace's 
maid  to  me,  having  something  to  say  to  her.  I  had 
discharged  the  chair,  lest  I  should  be  pursued  and 
watched.  When  the  maid  came  in,  I  desired  her  to 
present  my  most  humble  respects  to  her  grace,  who,  they 
told  me,  had  company  with  her,  and  to  acquaint  her  that 
this  was  my  only  reason  for  i,  )t  coming  up  stairs.  I  also 
charged  her  with  my  sincerest  thanks  for  her  kind  offer 
to  accompany  me  when  I  went  to  present  my  petition. 
I  added,  that  she  might  spare  herself  any  further  trouble, 
as  it  was  now  judged  more  advisable  to  present  one 
general  petition,  in  the  name  of  all:  however,  that  1 
should  never  be  unmindful  of  my  particular  obligations  to 
her  grace,  which  I  would  return  very  soon  to  acknowledge 
in  person. 

"  I  then  desired  one  of  the  servants  to  call  a  chair, 
and  I  went  to  the  Duchess  of  Montrose,  who  had  always 
borne  a  part  in  my  distresses.  When  I  arrived,  she  left 
her  company  to  deny  herself,  not  being  able  to  see  me 
under  the  affliction  she  judged  me  to  be  in.  By  mistake, 
however,  I  was  admitted ;  so  there  was  no  remedy. 
She  came  to  me,  and,  as  my  heart  was  in  an  ecstasy  of 
joy,  I  expressed  it  in  my  countenance  as  she  entered  the 
rcrom.  I  ran  up  to  her,  in  the  transport  of  my  joy.  She 
appeared  to  be  exceedingly  shocked  and  frighted,  and 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION  147 

ftas  since  confessed  to  me,  that  she  apprehendec  my 
trouble  had  thrown  me  out  of  myself,  till  I  communicated 
my  happiness  to  her.  She  then  advised  me  to  retire  to 
some  place  of  security,  for  that  the  king  was  highly  dis- 
pleased, and  even  enraged,  at  the  petition  I  had  presented 
to  him,  and  had  complained  of  it  severely.  I  sent  for 
another  chaii :  for  I  always  discharged  them  immediately, 
lest  I  might  be  pursued.  Her  grace  said  she  would  go 
to  court,  and  see  how  the  news  of  my  lord's  escape  was 
received.  When  the  news  was  brought  to  the  king,  he 
flew  into  an  excess  of  passion,  and  said  he  was  betrayed, 
for  it  could  not  have  been  done  without  some  confederacy. 
He  instantly  despatched  two  persons  to  the  Tower,  to  see 
that  the  other  prisoners  were  secure,  lest  they  should 
follow  the  example.  Some  threw  the  blame  upon  one, 
some  upon  another.  The  duchess  was  the  only  one  at 
court  who  knew  it." 

Such  was  the  plan  by  which  the  Countess  of  Niths- 
dale  procured  her  husband's  freedom  ;  his  less  fortunate 
companions  suffered  their  sentence  the  following  morn- 
ing. 

Meantime  the  earl  remained  concealed.  His  escape 
was  on  a  Thursday,  and  the  following  Saturday  he  was 
conducted,  with  much  secrecy,  to  the  Venetian  ambas- 
sador's, where,  although  his  excellency  knew  nothing  of 
the  matter,  he  was  concealed  in  the  room  of  one  of  the 
servants  until  Wednesday,  on  which  day  the  ambassa- 
dor's coach  and  six  was  to  go  down  to  Dover,  to  meet  his 
brother.  Lord  Nithsdale  put  on  a  livery,  and  went  down 
in  the  retinue,  without  the  least  suspicion,  to  that  place, 
where  the  servant  who  had  concealed  him  had  hired  a 
f  all  vessel,  which  immediately  set  sail  for  Calais.  The 

yage  was  short  and  prosperous ;  and  it  is  remarkable 


148  CONJUGAL  AFFECTION. 

that  during  the  passage  the  captain  exclaimed,  "  that 
if  his  passengers  were  flying  for  their  lives,  the  ship 
could  not  have  sailed  quicker ;"  little  thinking  it  to  be 
the  case. 

To  return  to  the  countess,  who  had  hazarded  so  much 
to  insure  her  husband's  safety.  Her  trials  and  dangers 
were  not  yet  over ;  having  well  performed  her  duty  as  a 
wife,  that  of  a  mother  yet  remained  to  be  fulfilled.  When 
she  left  Scotland  she  had  placed  her  only-son  under  the 
care  of  some  friends  at  her  family  estate ;  she  had  also 
buried  under  ground  all  those  papers  which  she  considered 
it  would  be  advisable  to  conceal  on  account  of  their 
importance.  Her  object  now  was  to  secure  these  papers, 
and  escape  to  France  with  her  son ;  but  the  enterprise 
was  full  of  difficulties.  It  was  supposed,  when  the  earl 
made  his  escape,  that  the  countess  had  gone  with  him, 
and  she  was  obliged  to  conceal  herself  until  she  ascer- 
tained that  he  had  reached  the  continent  in  safety,  for 
fear  her  person  should  be  seized ;  but  when  the  fortunate 
intelligence  reached  her,  she  solicited,  through  the 
medium  of  her  friends,  permission  to  settle  her  affairs  in 
security ;  alleging,  that  a  bare  suspicion  of  her  having 
been  instrumental  in  her  husband's  preservation  ought 
not  to  be  considered  grounds  of  punishment.  But  the 
king  was  so  greatly  incensed  that  he  resolved  to  secure 
her;  after  several  debates,  however,  she  was  given  to 
understand,  that  if  she  remained  concealed,  no  further 
search  should  be  made  after  her ;  but  if  she  made  her 
appearance  sither  in  England  or  in  Scotland,  she  would 
be  secured.  "  But,"  says  the  countess,  in  her  letter  to 
her  sister,  "  this  was  not  sufficient  for  me,  unless  I  could 
submit  to  expose  my  son  to  beggary.  My  lord  had  sent 
for  me  up  to  town  in  such  haste,  that  I  had  no  time 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  149 

to  settle  anything  before  I  left  Scotland.  I  had  in  my 
hands  all  the  family  papers ;  I  dared  trust  them  to  nobody. 
My  house  might  have  been  searched  without  waiaing; 
consequently  they  were  far  from  being  secure  there.  In 
this  distress,  I  had  the  precaution  to  bury  them  under 
ground  ;  and  nobody  but  the  gardener  and  myself  knew 
where  they  were.  I  did  the  same  with  other  things  of 
value.  The  event  proved  I  had  acted  prudently ;  for 
after  my  departure  they  searched  the  house,  and  God 
knows  what  might  have  transpired  from  these  papers." 

Having  hazarded  her  life  for  her  husband,  Lady  Niths- 
dale  thought  she  could  do  no  less  for  her  son,  and  she 
therefore  resolved  to  risk  everything  for  the  purpose  of 
securing  the  family  inheritance  to  him.  She  set  out 
for  Scotland  on  horseback,  attended  only  by  two  maids. 
As  she  was  well  known  on  the  road,  she  was  careful  to 
visit  only  the  smallest  and  least  frequented  inns,  espec- 
ially as  the  king  had  declared,  that  if  she  was  found 
iu  his  dominions,  her  life  must  be  answerable.  She  was 
fortunate  enough  to  reach  Scotland  without  detection, 
and  on  her  arrival  there,  pretended  to  have  got  a  license 
from  government  to  go  to  her  own  house  and  arrange 
her  affairs.  Having  given  out  this  infonnation,  she  went 
to  her  residence,  and  taking  up  her  papers  by  night, 
sent  them  off  to  Traquair.  Her  behavior,  however, 
having  excited  some  suspicions,  the  magistrates  resolved 
to  go  next  day  and  make  her  produce  her  license,  which 
the  countess  hearing  of,  expressed  her^  surprise  that  they 
had  not  come  before.  Having  made  all  necessary 
arrangements,  she  set  out  at  day-break  the  next  morn- 
ing, on  horseback,  with  her  son  and  two  attendants,  thus 
frustrating  their  design.  She  reached  London  in  safety, 
while  the  report  was  still  fresh  of  her  j  juruey  to  Scot- 
13* 


150  CONJUGAL  AFFECTION. 

land,  in  defiance  of  prohibition.  The  king  was  exceed- 
ingly a.igry  at  her  conduct,  and  issued  orders  for  having 
her  arrested;  saying,  that  "she  did  what  she  pleased,  in 
despite  of  his  desires,  and  had  given  him  more  anxiety 
and  trouble  than  any  woman  in  Europe."  The  countess 
concealed  herself  and  son  with  her  accustomed  prudence, 
till  they  had  ceased  to  search  for  her,  and  in  about  a 
fortnight  after,  they  both  escaped,  without  any  accident, 
to  France.  They  proceeded  thence  with  the  earl  to 
Rome,  and  it  is  gratifying  to  learn  that  this  affectionate 
and  enterprising  woman  enjoyed  thirty-three  additional 
years  of  domestic  bliss.  She  died  at  Rome  in  the  year 
1749,  and  her  husband  did  not  survive  her  loss  more 
than  five  years. 

A  COMPANION  IN  ADVERSITY. 

"  Let  fate  frown  on,  so  we  love  and  part  not ; 
'T  is  life  where  thou  art,  't  is  death  where  thou  art  not !  " 

MOORE. 

MARSHAL  MUNICH,  having  been  condemned  to  end 
his  days  in  Siberia,  was  accompanied  in  his  gloomy  exile 
by  his  wife. 

St.  Pierre  thus  describes  the  marshal's  prison  :  "  It 
consisted  of  only  three  rooms,  the  one  appropriated  to 
the  soldiers  of  the  guard,  the  second  to  cooking  victuals, 
and  the  third  as  the  marshal's  bed-room.  There  was  at 
some  distance  a  wooden  railing,  which,  though  only 
twenty  feet  high,  prevented  him  from  enjoying  a  pros- 
pect, or  receiving  the  rays  of  the  sun.  He  was  sent 
thither  at  the  age  of  sixty,  and,  after  having  governed 
the  whole  Russian  empire,  was  limited  to  the  expense  of 
half-a-crown  a  day.  He  continued  in  this  cheerless 
abode  till  the  age  of  eighty.  Yet  conjugal  love  stripped 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  15 

his  prison  of  all  its  horrors.  His  wife,  then  of  the  age 
of  fifty-five,  had  the  courage  to  accompany  him,  and  to 
discharge  all  the  duties  of  a  faithful  companion.  This 
great  man  conciliated  the  affection  of  the  rude  soldiers, 
by  teaching  their  children  mathematics.  They  passed 
no  less  than  twenty-one  years  in  this  retreat,  and  in 
affording  each  other  consolation.  On  their  return  to 
Moscow,  they  found  no  less  than  FIFTY-TWO  of  their 
great-grandchildren,  who  came  forth  to  meet  them. 
Scarcely  had  the  marshal  returned,  when  the  revolution 
which  overset  the  emperor,  (Catherine's  husband,)  and 
ended  in  his  death,  had  very  nearly  been  the  cause  of 
his  being  sent  back  to  his  imprisonment.  I  arrived  in 
Russia  immediately  after  that  catastrophe ;  and  it  was 
the  old  marshal,  at  that  time  governor  of  Petersburg, 
who  got  me  taken  into  the  service,  without  any  other 
recommendation  than  that  which  arose  from  my  misfor- 
tunes." 

MAGNANIMITY  OF  CATHERINE   HERMAN. 

"  Adversity  exalts  the  mind ; 
And  fearless  virtue  may,  from  perils,  find 
Some  means,  howe'er  depressed,  her  head  to  raise, 
And  reach  the  heights  of  never-ending  praise." 

DURING  the  siege  of  Ostend,  which  continued  three 
years,  three  months,  and  three  days,  the  Spaniards  took 
a  great  number  of  Dutch  sailors  and  some  pilots  of  con» 
sideration,  whom  they  destined  to  the  galleys,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  bad  treatment  which  some  of  their  nation 
had  before  experienced  from  the  Dutch.  Catherine  Her- 
man, a  Dutch  woman,  of  great  virtue  and  courage,  wife 
of  one  of  the  pilots  who  had  been  taken  prisoners,  having 
resolved  to  deliver  her  husband  from  this  captivity,  cut 


152  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

off  her  hair,  dressed  herself  in  men's  cloth:  s,  and  repaired 
to  the  camp  before  Ostend,  after  having  surmounted,  as 
appears,  the  greatest  difficulties ;  but  what  formed  the 
chief  obstacle  to  her  design  was  her  great  beauty,  which 
attracted  the  notice  of  the  officers  and  soldiers  in  the 
army  of  the  Archduke  Albert,  who  all  wished  to  speak 
to  her;  and  who,  having  found  that  her  accent  was  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  the  rest,  took  her  for  a  spy  of  Count 
Maurice  of  Nassau.  She  was  therefore  arrested,  and 
carried  before  the  provost  of  the  army,  who  caused 
chains  to  be  put  on  her  feet  and  hands,  and  treated  her 
with  great  severity.  Catherine  Herman  would  have 
considered  herself  happy  in  this  state  of  affliction,  had 
she  been  put  into  the  same  prison  with  her  husband  ;  but 
she  was  confined  in  another  place,  and,  to  add  to  her 
grief,  she  learnt  that  seven  of  the  prisoners  were  to  be 
executed  next  day,  to  avenge  the  death  of  seven  others, 
whom  the  besieged  had  treated  in  the  same  manner; 
and  that  the  rest  were  to  be  put  in  chains,  either  to  serve 
as  galley-slaves  in  the  country,  or  to  be  sent  to  Spain. 
While  this  magnanimous  female  was  agitated  between 
hope  and  fear,  she  saw  a  Jesuit  enter,  who  came,  accord- 
ing to  custom,  to  visit  the  prisoners,  and  having  confessed 
to  him,  she  intrusted  him  with  her  secret.  The  Jesuit, 
admiring  her  resolution,  promised  her  every  assistance 
in  his  power,  and  he  obtained  leave,  indeed,  from  Count 
de  Bucquoi,  afterwards  marshal  of  the  empire,  for  her 
being  removed  to  the  same  prison  in  which  her  husband 
was  confined.  As  soon  as  she  perceived  him  in  the 
deplorable  state  of  those  who  expect  death  or  slavery,  she 
tainted ;  but  having  recovered,  she  could  no  longer  con- 
ceal her  design ;  as  soon,  therefore,  as  she  was  able  to 
speak,  she  declared  that  she  had  sold  her  most  vajuable 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  153 

articles  in  order  to  release  her  husband ;  that  she  had 
disguised  herself  that  she  might  negotiate  for  his  ran 
som  and  that  .f  she  were  not  so  fortunate  as  to  succeed 
in  hsr  enterprise,  she  was  resolved  to  accompany  her 
husband  wherever  he  might  be  sent,  to  assist  him  in 
pulling  the  oar,  and  to  share  in  his  punishment,  however 
cruel.  Count  Bucquoi,  having  heard  of  her  determina- 
tion, was  so  sensibly  affected  by  the  generosity  of  this 
Dutch  woman,  that  he  not  only  bestowed  on  her  the 
highest  praise,  but  set  her  and  her  husband  at  liberty. 


NOBLE   PROOF  OF  ATTACHMENT. 

"  Here  is  my  hand  for  my  true  constancy." 

SHAXSFEAKE. 

IN  Everard's  Letters,  which  were  published  in  1776, 
a  most  touching  instance  of  affection  is  recorded. 

"  After  passing,"  he  says,  "  through  several  parts  of 
the  Alps,  and  having  visited  Germany,  I  thought  I  could 
not  well  return  home  without  visiting  the  quicksilver 
mines  at  Idria,  and  seeing  those  dreadful  subterranean 
caverns,  where  thousands  are  condemned  to  reside,  shut 
out  from  all  hopes  of  ever  seeing  the  cheerful  light  of  the 
sun,  and  obliged  to  toil  out  a  miserable  life  under  the 
whips  of  imperious  taskmasters. 

"  Such  wretches  as  the  inmates  of  this  place,  my  eyes 
never  yet  beheld.  The  blackness  of  their  visages  only 
serves  to  cover  a  horrid  paleness,  caused  by  the  noxious 
qualities  of  the  mineral  they  are  employed  in  procuring. 
As  they  in  general  consist  of  malefactors  condemned  for 
life  to  this  task,  they  are  fed  at  the  public  expense ;  but 
they  seldom  consume  much  provisions,  as  they  lose  their 
appetites  in  a  short  time,  and  commonly  in  about  two 


154  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

years  expire,  from  a  total  contraction  of  all  the  joints  of 
the  body. 

"  In  this  horrid  mansion  I  walked  after  my  guide  for 
some  time,  pondering  on  the  strange  tyranny  and  avarice 
of  mankind,  when  I  was  startled  by  a  voice  behind  me, 
calling  me  by  my  name,  and  inquiring  after  my  health 
with  the  most  cordial  affection.  I  turned,  and  saw  a 
creature  all  black  and  hideous,  who  approached  me,  and, 
with  a  most  pitiful  accent,  exclaimed,  '  Ah !  Mr.  Ever- 
ard,  don't  you  know  me?'  Gracious  heavens!  what 
was  my  surprise,  when,  through  the  veil  of  his  wretch 
edness,  I  discovered  the  features  of  my  old  and  dear 
friend,  Count  Alberti.  You  must  remember  him  one 
of  the  gayest,  most  agreeable  persons  at  the  court  of 
Vienna ;  at  once  the  paragon  of  the  men  and  the  favorite 
of  the  fair  sex.  I  have  often  heard  you  repeat  his  name 
as  one  of  the  few  that  did  honor  to  the  present  age ;  as 
possessed  of  generosity  and  pity  in  the  highest  degree , 
as  one  who  made  no  other  use  of  fortune  but  to  alleviate 
the  distress  of  his  fellow-creatures.  Immediately  on 
recognizing  him,  I  flew  to  him  with  affection,  and,  after 
a  tear  of  condolence,  asked  him  how  he  came  there? 
To  this  he  replied,  that  having  fought  a  duel  with  a  gen- 
eral of  the  Austrian  infantry,  against  the  empercr's  com- 
mand, and  having  left  him  for  dead,  he  was  obliged  to 
fly  into  one  of  the  forests  of  Istria,  where  he  was  first 
taken  prisoner,  and  afterwards  sheltered  by  some  ban- 
ditti, who  had  long  infested  that  quarter.  With  these  he 
lived  for  nine  months,  till,  by  a  close  investiture  of  the 
place  in  which  they  were  concealed,  and  a  very  obstinate 
resistance,  in  which  the  greater  part  of  them  were  killed, 
he  was  taken,  and  carried  to  Vienna,  in  order  to  be  broke 
alive  upon  the  wheel.  On  arriving  at  the  capital,  how- 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  155 

ever,  he  was  soon  recognized,  and,  through  the  interces- 
sion of  friends,  his  punishment  of  the  rack  was  changed 
into  that  of  perpetual  imprisonment  and  labor  in  the 
mines  of  Idria. 

"  As  Alberti  was  giving  me  this  account,  a  young 
woman  came  up  to  him,  who  I  at  once  saw  to  be  born 
for  better  fortune.  The  dreadful  situation  of  the  olace 
was  not  able  to  destroy  her  beauty ;  and  even  in  this 
scene  of  wretchedness,  she  seemed  to  have  charms  to 
grace  the  most  brilliant  assembly.  This  lady  was,  in 
fact,  daughter  to  one  of  the  first  families  in  Germany, 
and  having  tried  every  means  to  procure  her  lover's  par- 
don, without  effect,  was  at  last  resolved  to  share  his  mis- 
eries, as  she  could  not  relieve  them.  With  him  she 
accordingly  descended  into  these  mansions,  whence  few 
of  the  living  return,  and  with  him  she  is  contented  to 
live,  with  him  to  toil ;  forgetting  the  gayeties  of  life, 
despising  the  splendors  of  opulence,  and  contented  with 
the  consciousness  of  her  own  fidelity.  Such  constancy 
was  not  unrewarded.  In  a  letter  written  nine  days  after, 
Mr.  Everard  related  that  he  was  '  the  spectator  of  the 
most  affecting  scene  he  had  ever  yet  beheld.  A  person 
came  post  from  Vienna  to  the  little  village  near  the 
mouth  of  the  greater  shaft.  He  was  soon  after  followed 
by  a  second,  and  by  a  third.  Their  first  inquiry  was 
after  the  unfortunate  count,  and  I,  happening  to  overhear 
it,  gave  the  best  information  I  could.  Two  of  these  were 
the  brother  and  cousin  of  the  lady;  the  third  was  the 
intimate  friend  and  fellow-soldier  of  the  count ;  they 
came  with  his  pardon,  which  had  been  procured  by  the 
general  with  whom  the  duel  had  been  fought,  and  who 
was  perfectly  recovered  from  his  wounds.  I  led  them, 
with  all  the  expedition  of  joy,  down  to  his  dreary  abode 


156  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

presented  to  him  his  friends,  and  informed  him  of 
the  happy  change  in  his  circumstances.  It  would  be 
impossible  to  describe  the  joy  that  brightened  upon  his 
grief-worn  countenance;  nor  were  the  young  lady's 
emotions  less  vivid  at  seeing  her  friends,  and  hearing  of 
her  husband's  freedom.  Some  hours  were  employed  in 
mending  the  appearance  of  this  faithful  couple ;  nor 
could  I,  without  a  tear,  behold  him  taking  leave  of  the 
former  wretched  companions  of  his  toil.  We  soon 
emerged  from  the  ore  mines,  and  Alberti  and  his  wife 
once  more  revisited  the  light  of  the  sun.' 

"The  empress  has  again  taken  him  into  favor;  his 
fortune  and  rank  are  restored  ;  and  he,  with  his  faithful 
partner,  now  have  the  pleasing  satisfaction  of  enjoying 
happiness  with  double  relish,  as  they  once  knew  what  it 
was  to  be  miserable." 

LADY  HARRIET  ACKLAND. 

"  What  need  of  years,  long  years,  to  prove 
The  sense  of  Friendship  or  of  Love  ? 
What  need  of  years  to  firmly  bind 
The  social  compact  of  the  mind  ? 
In  youthful  hearts,  of  kindred  mould, 
Not  slowly  feeling's  flowers  unfold  ; 
But  oft  —  though  'neath  a  sky  of  gloom  — 
They  burst  to  instantaneous  bloom !  " 

ALARIC  A.  WATTS. 

LADY  HARRIET  ACKLAND  accompanied  her  husband  to 
Canada  in  the  beginning  of  the  year  1776  In  the 
course  of  that  campaign,  she  traversed  a  vast  space  of 
country,  in  different  extremities  of  the  seasons,  and  with 
difficulties  that  an  European  traveller  will  not  easily 
conceive,  in  order  to  attend  her  husband  in  a  poor  hut  at 
Chamblee,  upon  his  sick  bed.  In  the  opening  of  the 
campaign  of  1777,  she  was  restrained  from  offering  her- 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  151 

edf  to  a  share  of  the  hazard  before  Ticonderogn  by  the 
positive  injunction  of  her  husband.  The  day  after  the 
conquest  of  that  place  he  was  badly  wounded,  and  she 
crossed  the  Lake  Champlain  to  join  him. 

As  soon  as  he  recovered,  Lady  Harriet  proceeded  to 
follow  his  fortunes  through  the  campaign.  Major  Ack- 
land,  her  husband,  commanded  the  British  Grenadiers, 
who  formed  the  most  advanced  post  of  the  army,  which 
required  them  to  be  so  much  on  the  alert  that  frequently 
no  person  slept  out  of  their  clothes.  In  one  of  these 
situations,  a  tent  in  which  the  major  and  Lady  Harriet 
slept  suddenly  took  fire.  An  orderly  sergeant  of  grena- 
diers, with  great  hazard  of  suffocation,  dragged  out  the 
first  person  he  caught  hold  of ;  it  proved  to  be  the  major. 
Fortunately  the  lady  escaped  at  the  same  moment,  under 
the  canvass  of  the  back  part  of  the  tent. 

This  accident  neither  altered  the  resolution  nor  the 
cheerfulness  of  Lady  Harriet,  who  was  in  a  hut  during 
the  whole  of  the  action  that  followed,  and  close  to  the 
field  of  battle.  In  a  subsequent  engagement,  Major  Ack- 
land  was  desperately  wounded  and  taken  prisoner.  Lady 
Harriet  sustained  the  shock  with  great  fortitude,  and 
immediately  determined  to  pass  to  the  enemy's  camp, 
and  request  General  Gates'  permission  to  attend  her 
husband.  Having  obtained  General  Burgoyne's  leave, 
Lady  Harriet,  accompanied  by  the  chaplain  of  the  regi- 
ment, one  female  servant,  and  the  major's  valet-de- 
chambre,  rowed  down  the  river  to  meet  the  enemy.  The 
night  was  far  advanced  before  the  boat  reached  the 
enemy's  outposts,  and  the  sentinel  would  not  let  it  pass, 
nor  suffer  them  to  come  on  shore.  In  vain  was  the  flag 
of  truce  offered,  and  the  situation  and  rank  of  this  ex- 
traordinary passenger  represented  in  strong  terms.  The 
14 


158  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

guard,  apprehensive  of  treachery,  and  punctilious  in 
obedience  to  their  orders,  threatened  to  fire  into  the  boat 
if  they  offered  to  stir  before  daylight.  The  anxiety  and 
sufferings  of  Lady  Harriet  were  thus  protracted  through 
seven  or  eight  dark  and  cold  hours ;  and  her  reflections 
on  that  first  reception  could  not  give  her  very  encourag- 
ing ideas  of  the  treatment  she  was  afterwards  to  expect. 
But  in  the  morning,  as  soon  as  her  case  was  made  known 
to  General  Gates,  he  received  her  with  all  the  humanity 
and  respect  due  to  her  rank  and  exemplary  conjugal 
virtue,  and  immediately  restored  her  to  her  husband. 


A  SINGULAR  DIVORCE. 

"  It  is  no  act  of  common  passage,  but 
A  strain  of  rareness."  —  SHAKSPEARE. 

"A  FEW  years  before  the  French  Revolution,  a  very 
rich  and  beautiful  orphan,  only  seventeen  years  of  age, 
was  married  to  a  young  man  without  any  fortune.  She 
lived  with  him,  in  the  most  perfect  happiness,  for  some 
time ;  it  was  therefore  with  the  utmost  astonishment 
that  their  neighbors  and  friends  heard  of  their  intending, 
by  mutual  agreement,  to  take  advantage  of  the  new  law 
of  divorce ;  but  their  surprise  was  still  greater  when, 
two  or  three  days  after,  they  saw  them  married  to  each 
other  again.  The  reason  was  that  the  young  lady's 
guardians  had  only  consented  to  the  first  union  upon  the 
condition  that  the  lady's  whole  fortune  should  be  secured 
to  her;  so  that  her  husband  could  not  engage  in  any 
beneficial  use  of  the  capital.  The  marriage  was  dis- 
solved by  the  revolutionary  law  of  divorce  ;  and  the  lady, 
bring  made  mistress  of  her  fortune  by  being  of  age,  gave 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION.  159 

a  most  convincing  proof  of  conjugal  affection,  by  making 
her  husband  master  of  the  whole  of  her  property." 


CONSTANCY  OF  MADAME  LAVERGNE. 

"  Mightier  far 

Than  strength  of  nerve  or  sinew,  or  the  sway 
Of  magic  potent  over  sun  and  star, 
Is  love,  though  oft  to  agony  distrest, 
And  though  his  favorite  seat  be  feeble  woman's  breast.' 

WORDSWORTH. 

4  MADAME  LAVERGNE  had  not  long  been  married  when 
her  husband,  who  was  governor  of  Longwy,  was  obliged 
to  surrender  that  fort  to  the  Prussians.  The  French 
however,  succeeded  in  regaining  possession  of  the  place, 
when  M.  Lavergne  was  arrested  and  conducted  to  one 
of  the  prisons  in  Paris.  His  wife  followed  him  to  the 
capital :  she  was  then  scarcely  twenty  years  of  age,  and 
one  of  the  loveliest  women  of  France.  Her  husband 
was  more  than  sixty,  yet  his  amiable  qualities  first  won 
her  esteem,  and  his  tenderness  succeeded  to  inspire  her 
with  an  affection  as  sincere  and  fervent  as  that  which  he 
possessed  for  her.  While  the  unfortunate  Lavergne 
expected  every  hour  to  be  summoned  before  the  dreaded 
tribunal,  he  was  attacked  with  illness  in  his  dungeon. 
At  any  other  moment  this  affliction  would  have  been  a 
subject  of  grief  and  inquietude  to  Madame  Lavergne  ; 
under  her  present  circumstances,  it  was  a  source  of  hope 
and  consolation.  She  could  not  believe  there  existed  a 
tribunal  so  barbarous  as  to  bring  a  man  before  the  judg- 
ment-seat who  was  suffering  under  a  burning  fever.  A 
perilous  disease,  she  imagined,  was  the  present  safe- 
guard of  her  husband's  life  ;  and  she  flattered  herself  that 
the  fluctuation  of  events  would  change  his  destiny,  and 


160  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

finish  in  his  favor  that  which  nature  had  so  opportunely 
begun.  Vain  expectation  !  The. name  of  Lavergne  had 
been  irrevocably  inscribed  on  the  fatal  list  of  the  llth 
Germinal,  of  the  second  year  of  the  republic,  (June  25th, 
1794,)  and  he  must  on  that  day  submit  to  his  fate. 

"  Madame  Lavergne,  informed  of  this  decision,  had 
recourse  to  tears  and  supplications.  Persuaded  that  she 
could  soften  the  hearts  of  the  representatives  of  the 
people  by  a  faithful  picture  of  Lavergne's  situation, 
she  presented  herself  before  the  Committee  of  General 
Safety:  she  demanded  that  her  husband's  trial  should  be 
delayed,  whom  she  represented  as  a  prey  to  a  dangerous 
and  afflicting  disease,  deprived  of  the  strength  of  his 
faculties,  and  of  all  those  powers,  either  of  body  or  mind, 
which  could  enable  him  to  confront  his  intrepid  and  arbi- 
trary accusers.  '  Imagine,  oh  citizens ! '  said  the  agonized 
wife  of  Lavergne,  '  such  an  unfortunate  being  as  I  have 
described  dragged  before  a  tribunal  about  to  decide  upon 
his  life,  while  reason  abandons  him,  while  he  cannot 
understand  the  charges  brought  against  him,  nor  has 
sufficient  power  of  utterance  to  declare  his  innocence. 
His  accusers,  in  full  possession  of  their  moral  and  physi- 
cal strength,  and  already  inflamed  with  hatred  against 
him.  are  instigated  even  by  his  helplessness  to  more  than 
ordinary  exertions  of  malice  :  while  the  accused,  subdued 
by  bodily  suffering  and  mental  infirmity,  is  appalled  or 
stupefied,  and  barely  sustains  the  dregs  of  his  miserable 
existence.  Will  you,  oh  citizens  of  France!  call  a  man 
to  trial  while  in  the  phrensy  of  delirium  ?  Will  you 
summon  him,  who  perhaps  at  this  moment  expires  upon 
the  bed  of  pain,  to  hear  that  irrevocable  sentence,  which 
admits  of  no  medium  between  liberty  or  the  scaffold  I 
and,  if  you  unite  humanity  with  justice,  :an  you  suflfel 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION.  161 

an  old  man —  ? '  At  these  words,  every  eye  was  turned 
on  Madame  Lavergne,  whose  youth  and  beauty,  con- 
trasted with  the  idea  of  an  aged  and  infirm  husband, 
gave  rise  to  very  different  emotions  in  the  breasts  of  the 
members  of  the  committee,  from  those  with  which  she 
had  so  eloquently  sought  to  inspire  them.  They  inter- 
rupted her  with  coarse  jests  and  indecent  raillery.  One 
of  the  members  assured  her,  with  a  scornful  smile,  that, 
young  and  handsome  as  she  was,  it  would  not  be  so 
difficult  as  she  appeared  to  imagine  to  find  means  of 
consolation  for  the  loss  of  a  husband,  who,  in  the  com- 
mon course  of  nature,  had  lived  already  long  enough. 
Another  of  them,  equally  brutal  and  still  more  ferocious, 
added,  that  the  fervor  with  which  she  had  pleaded  the 
cause  of  such  a  husband  was  an  unnatural  excess,  and 
therefore  the  committee  could  not  attend  to  her  petition. 

"  Horror,  indignation,  and  despair,  took  possession  of 
the  soul  of  Madame  Lavergne ;  she  had  heard  the  purest 
and  most  exalted  affection  for  one  of  the  worthiest  of 
men  condemned  as  a  degraded  passion ;  she  had  been 
wantonly  insulted,  while  demanding  justice,  by  the 
administrators  of  the  laws  of  a  nation ;  and  she  rushed  in 
silence  from  the  presence  of  these  inhuman  men,  to  hide 
the  bursting  agony  of  her  sorrows. 

"  One  faint  ray  of  hope  yet  arose  to  cheer  the  gloom  of 
Madame  Lavergne's  despondency.  Dumas  was  one  of 
the  judges  of  the  tribunal,  and  him  she  had  known  pre- 
vious to  the  Revolution.  Her  repugnance  to  seek  this 
man,  in  his  new  career,  was  subdued  by  a  knowledge  of 
his  power  and  her  hopes  of  his  influence.  She  threw  hei- 
self  at  his  feet,  bathed  them  with  her  tears,  and  conjured 
him,  by  all  the  claims  of  mercy  and  humanity,  to  prevail 
on  the  tribunal  to  delay  the  trial  of  her  husband  till  the 
14* 


162  CONJUGAL    AFFECTION. 

hour  of  his  recovery.  Dumas  replied,  coldly,  that  it  did 
not  belong  to  him  to  grant  the  favor  she  solicited,  no* 
should  he  choose  to  make  such  a  request  of  the  tribunal ; 
then,  in  a  tone  somewhat  animated  by  insolence  and 
sarcasm,  he  added,  'And  is  it,  then,  so  great  a  misfortune, 
madame,  to  be  delivered  from  a  troublesome  husband  of 
sixty,  whose  death  will  leave  you  at  liberty  to  employ 
your  youth  and  charms  more  usefully  ? ' 

"  Such  a  reiteration  of  insult  roused  the  unfortunate 
wife  of  Lavergne  to  desperation ;  she  shrieked  with  insup- 
portable anguish,  and,  rising  from  her  humble  posture, 
she  extended  her  arms  towards  Heaven,  and  exclaimed, 
'  Just  God !  will  not  the  crimes  of  these  atrocious  men 
awaken  Thy  vengeance  ?  Go,  monster ! '  she  cried  to 
Dumas ;  '  I  no  longer  want  thy  aid,  —  I  no  longer  need  to 
supplicate  thy  pity ;  away  to  the  tribunal !  —  there  will  I 
also  appear ;  then  shall  it  be  known  whether  I  deserve 
the  outrages  which  thou  and  thy  base  associates  have 
heaped  upon  me.'  From  the  presence  of  Dumas, 
Madame  Lavergne  repaired  to  the  hall  of  the  tribunal, 
and  mixing  with  the  crowd,  waited  in  silence  for  the 
hour  of  trial.  The  barbarous  proceedings  of  the  day 
commenced,  and  on  M.  Lavergne  being  called  for,  the 
unfortunate  man  was  carried  into  the  hall  by  the  gaolers, 
supported  on  a  mattress.  To  the  few  questions  which 
were  proposed  to  him,  he  replied  in  a  feeble  and  dying 
voice,  and  the  fatal  sentence  of  death  was  pronounced 
upon  him. 

"  Scarcely  had  the  sentence  passed  the  lips  of  the 
judge,  when  Madame  Lavergne  cried,  with  a  loud  voice, 
'  Vive  le  roi ! '  The  persons  nearest  the  place  whereon 
she  stood  eagerly  surrounded,  and  endeavored  to  silence 
her ;  bit  the  more  the  astonishment  and  alarm  of  the 


CONJUGAL    AFFECTION.  163 

multitude  augmented,  the  more  loud  and  vehement 
became  her  cries  of  '  Vive  le  roi  !  '  The  guard  was  called, 
and  directed  to  lead  her  away.  She  was  followed  by  a 
numerous  crowd,  mute  with  consternation  and  pity  ;  but 
the  passages  and  staircases  still  resounded  every  instant 
with  '  Vive  le  roi! '  till  she  was  conducted  into  one  of  the 
rooms  belonging  to  the  court  of  justice,  into  which  the 
public  accuser  came  to  interrogate  her  on  the  motives  of 
her  extraordinary  conduct. 

"  '  I  am  not  actuated,'  she  answered,  '  by  any  sudden 
impulse  of  despair  or  revenge  for  the  condemnation  of 
M.  Lavergne,  but  from  the  love  of  royalty,  which  is 
rooted  in  my  heart.  I  adore  the  system  that  you  have 
destroyed.  I  do  not  expect  any  mercy  from  you,  for  I 
am  your  enemy ;  I  abhor  your  republic,  and  will  persist 
in  the  confession  I  have  publicly  made,  as  long  as  I  live.' 

"  Such  a  declaration  was  without  reply,  and  the  name 
of  Madame  Lavergne  was  instantly  added  to  the  list  of 
suspected  persons :  a  few  minutes  afterwards,  she  was 
brought  before  the  tribunal,  where  she  again  uttered  her 
own  accusation,  and  was  condemned  to  die.  From  that 
instant,  the  agitation  of  her  spirits  subsided,  serenity  took 
possession  of  her  mind,  and  her  beautiful  countenance 
announced  only  the  peace  and  satisfaction  of  her  soul. 

"  On  the  day  of  execution,  Madame  Lavergne  first 
ascended  the  cart,  and  desired  to  be  so  placed  that  she 
might  behold  her  husband.  The  unfortunate  Lavergne 
had  fallen  into  a  swoon,  and  was  in  that  condition 
extended  upon  straw  in  the  cart,  at  the  feet  of  his  wife, 
without  any  signs  of  life.  On  the  way  to  the  place  of 
execution,  the  motion  of  the  cart  had  loosened  the  bosom 
of  Lavergne's  shirt,  and  exposed  his  breast  to  the  scorch  • 
ing-  rays  of  the  sun,  till  his  wife  entreated  the  executioner 


164  CONJUGAL    AFFECTION. 

to  take  a  pin  from  her  handkerchief  and  fasten  his  shirt 
Shortly  afterwards,  Madame  Lavergne,  whose  attention 
never  wandered  from  her  husband  for  a  single  instant; 
perceived  that  his  senses  returned,  and  called  him  by  his 
name ;  at  the  sound  of  that  voice,  whose  melody  had 
been  so  long  withheld  from  him,  Lavergne  raised  his 
eyes,  and  fixed  them  on  her  with  a  look  at  once  express- 
ive of  terror  and  affection.  'Do  not  be  alarmed,'  she 
said ;  '  it  is  your  faithful  wife  who  called  you ;  you  know 
I  could  not  live  without  you,  and  we  are  going  to  die 
together.'  Lavergne  burst  into  tears  of  gratitude,  which 
relieved  the  oppression  of  his  heart,  and  he  became  once 
more  able  to  express  his  love  and  admiration  of  his  virtu- 
ous wife.  The  scaffold,  which  was  intended  to  separate, 
united  them  forever." 

A  HUSBAND  SAVED  BY  HIS  WIFE. 

"  'T  is  not  in  fate  to  harm  me, 

While  fate  leaves  thy  love  to  me  ; 
'T  is  not  in  joy  to  charm  me, 

Unless  joy  be  shared  with  thee."  — MOORE. 

"  ALMOST  every  city  in  France  is  honored,  like  Paris, 
with  having  been  the  scene  where  the  conjugal  tender- 
ness of  women  has  risen  superior  to  the  considerations 
of  self-love,  and  given  striking  examples  of  that  steadfast 
fortitude,  arising  from  principle  and  affection,  which  is 
more  honorable  to  human  nature  than  the  most  splendid 
instances  of  instinctive  courage. 

"  At  Lyons,  when  that  city  became  the  theatre  of  daily 
executions,  a  woman  learned  by  chance  that  her  husband's 
name  was  on  the  list  of  the  proscribed,  and  instantly  ran 
to  avert  the  impending  destruction  by  securing  his  imme- 
diate flight.  She  compelled  him  to  assume  her  dress, 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  165 

gave  him  her  money  and  jewels,  and  had  the  inexpress- 
ible happiness  of  seeing  him  pass  unsuspected.  A  few 
hours  afterwards,  the  officers  of  justice  came  to  seize  him 
She  had  prepared  herself  to  receive  them,  by  putting  on 
a  suit  of  her  husband's  clothes,  and  answering  also  to  his 
name.  She  was  led  before  the  Revolutionary  Committee. 
In  the  course  of  the  examination,  her  disguise  was  dis- 
covered, and  they  demanded  of  her  her  husband.  '  My 
husband,'  she  answered,  in  a  tone  of  exultation,  '  is  out 
of  the  reach  of  your  power.  I  planned  his  escape,  and 
i  glory  in  risking  my  own  life  for  the  preservation  of 
his.'  They  displayed  before  her  the  instrument  of  pun- 
ishment, and  charged  her  to  reveal  the  route  her  husband 
had  taken.  '  Strike  ! '  she  replied,  '  I  am  prepared.'  '  But 
it  is  the  interests  of  your  country  that  command  you  to 
speak,'  said  one  of  the  committee.  '  Barbarians  ! '  she 
answered,  '  my  country  cannot  command  me  to  outrage 
the  sacred  laws  of  Nature.'  Her  dignity  and  firmness 
awed  even  the  members  of  the  Revolutionary'  Committee, 
and  a  noble  action  for  once  overcame  their  spirit  of  deso- 
lating cruelty." 

MADAME  LE-FOET. 

"  And  must  this  parting  be  our  very  last  ? 
No !  I  shall  love  thee  still,  when  death  itself  is  past." 

CAMPBELL. 

MONSIEUR  LE-FORT,  being  accused  of  conspiracy  against 
the  republic,  vas  seized  and  committed  to  prison.  His 
wife,  trembling  for  his  fate,  used  every  means  that  courage 
and  affection  could  inspire  to  restore  him  to  liberty,  but 
without  success.  She  then  bought,  with  a  sum  of  money, 
permission  to  pay  him  a  single  visit  in  his  prison. 

At  the  appointed  hour  she  appeared  before  her  husband, 


100  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

clothed  in  two  suite  of  her  own  apparel.  With  the  pv* 
dence  of  not  allowing  herself,  at  so  critical  a  juncture^ 
to  give  or  receive  useless  demonstrations  of  tenderness, 
she  hastily  took  off  her  upper  suit  of  attire,  prevailed  on 
her  husband  to  put  them  on,  and  to  quit  the  prison, 
leaving  her  in  his  place. 

The  disguise  succeeded  to  her  utmost  wishes ;  Le-fort 
escaped,  and  the  stratagem  was  not  discovered  till  the 
following  day.  "  Unhappy  wretch  !  "  cried  one  of  the 
enraged  committee,  "  what  have  you  done  ? "  "  My 
duty,"  she  replied ;  "  do  thine." 

AMUSING  EXPEDIENT  OF  AFFECTION. 

"  Nor  stony  tower,  nor  walls  of  beaten  brass, 
Nor  airless  dungeon,  nor  strong  links  of  iron, 
Can  be  retentive  to  the  strength  of  spirit." 

LET  us  turn  from  these  melancholy  recitals  to  a  hi  jnor- 
ous  anecdote,  related  by  Napoleon  himself,  of  the  conju- 
gal affection  displayed  by  some  women  who  accompanied 
his  troops  when  he  was  at  Col  de  Tende.  To  enter  this 
mountainous  and  difficult  country,  it  was  necessary  for 
the  soldiers  to  pass  over  a  narrow  bridge,  and,  as  the 
enterprise  was  of  a  very  hazardous  description,  Napoleon 
had  given  orders  that  no  women  should  be  permitted  to 
cross  it  with  them,  especially  as  the  service  required  that 
the  men  should  be  constantly  on  the  alert.  To  enforce 
this  order,  two  captains  were  stationed  on  the  bridge, 
with  instructions,  on  pain  of  death,  not  to  suffer  a  woman 
to  pass.  The  passage  was  effected,  and  the  troops  con- 
tinued their  march.  When  some  miles  beyond  the 
bridge,  the  emperor  was  thrown  into  the  utmost  aston« 
ishment  by  the  appearance  of  a  considerable  number  o* 
women  with  the  soldiers.  He  immediately  ordered  the 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  161 

two  captains  to  be  put  under  arrest,  intending  to  have 
them  tried  for  a  breach  of  duty.  The  prisoners  protested 
their  innocence,  asserting  that  no  women  had  crossed  the 
bridge.  Napoleon,  on  hearing  this,  commanded  that 
some  of  the  women  should  be  brought  before  him,  when 
he  interrogated  them  on  the  subject.  To  his  utter  sur- 
prise, they  readily  acknowledged  that  the  captains  had 
not  betrayed  their  trust,  but  that  a  contrivance  of  their 
own  had  brought  them  into  their  present  situation. 
They  informed  Napoleon,  that  having  thrown  the  pro- 
visions, which  had  been  prepared  for  the  support  of  the 
army,  out  of  some  of  the  casks,  they  had  concealed  them- 
selves in  them,  and  by  this  stratagem  succeeded  in 
passing  over  without  discovery. 


CONJUGAL  HEROISM  OF  MADAME   LAV  ALETTE. 

"  Love,  leud  me  wings  to  make  my  purpose  swift, 
As  thou  hast  lent  me  wit  to  plot  this  drift." 

SHAKSFEARE. 

WE  have  seen  how  successfully  the  Countess  of  Niths- 
dale  effected  her  husband's  escape  from  prison;  in  an 
equally  enterprising  manner  was  M.  Lavalette  rescued 
from  an  ignominious  death  by  the  ingenuity  and  affection 
of  his  wife,  under  circumstances  still  more  unfavorable 
to  the  execution  of  such  a  project. 

It  was  in  the  year  1815  that  M.  Lavalette  had  been 
condemned,  for  his  adherence  'to  the  cause  of  Bonaparte, 
to  suffer  death.  The  eve  of  the  day  of  execution,  the 
24th  of  December,  had  already  arrived,  and  all  hope  of 
saving  him  had  been  abandoned,  except  by  one  heroic 
woman  alone. 

Madame  Lavalette's  health  had  been  very  seriously 
impaired  by  her  previous  sufferings ;  and  for  several 


168  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

weeks  preceding,  in  order  to  avoid  the  movement  of  hel 
carriage,  she  had  used  a  sedan-chair.  About  half-past 
three,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  23d,  she  arrived  at  the 
Concienjerie,  seated,  as  usual,  in  this  chair,  and  clothed 
in  a  furred  riding-coat  of  red  merino,  with  a  large  black 
hat  and  feathers  on  her  head.  She  was  accompanied 
by  her  daughter,  a  young  lady  of  about  twelve  years  of 
age,  and  an  elderly  woman,  attached  to  M.  Lavalette's 
service,  of  the  name  of  Dutoil.  The  chair  was  ordered 
to  wait  for  her  at  the  gate  of  the  Conciergerie. 

At  five  o'clock,  Jacques  Eberle,  one  of  the  wicket- 
keepers  of  the  Conciergerie,  who  had  been  specially 
appointed  by  the  keeper  of  the  prison  to  the  guard  and 
service  of  Lavalette,  took  his  dinner  to  him,  of  which 
Madame  and  Mademoiselle  Lavalette,  and  the  widow 
Dutoil,  partook. 

After  dinner,  which  lasted  an  hour,  Eberle  served  up 
coffee,  and  left  Lavalette's  apartment,  with  orders  not  to 
return  till  he  was  rung  for. 

Towards  seven  o'clock  the  bell  rang.  Roquette,  the 
gaoler,  was  at  that  moment  near  the  fire-place  of  the 
hall,  with  Eberle,  to  whom  he  immediately  gave  orders 
to  go  into  Lavalette's  chamber.  Roquette  heard  Eberle 
open  the  door  which  led  to  that  chamber,  and  imme- 
diately after  he  saw  three  persons,  dressed  in  female 
attire,  advance,  who  were  followed  by  Eberle.  The  per- 
son whom  he  took  to  be  Madame  Lavalette  was  attired 
in  a  dress  exactly  the  same  as  she  was,  in  every  partic- 
ular; and,  to  all  outward  appearance,  no  one  could 
have  imagined  but  that  they  saw  that  lady  herself  passing 
before  them.  A  white  handkerchief  covered  the  face  of 
this  person,  who  seemed  to  be  sobbing  heavily,  while 
Mademoiselle  Lavalette,  who  walked  by  the  side,  utterei 


CONJUGAL   AFFECTION.  169 

the  most  lamentable  cries.  Everything  presented  the 
spectacle  of  a  family  given  up  to  the  feelings  of  a  last 
adieu.  The  keeper,  melted  and  deceived  by  the  disguise, 
and  by  the  scanty  light  of  two  lamps,  had  not  the  power, 
as  he  afterwards  said,  to  take  away  the  handkerchief 
which  concealed  the  features  of  the  principal  individual 
m  the  group,  and  instead  of  performing  his  duty,  pre- 
sented his  hand  to  the  person,  (as  he  had  been  used  to  do 
to  Madame  Lavalette,)  whom  he  conducted,  along  with 
the  other  two  persons,  to  the  last  wicket.  Eberle  then 
stepped  forward,  and  ran  to  call  Madame  Lavalette's 
chair.  It  came  instantly,  the  feigned  Madame  Lavalette 
stepped  into  it,  and  was  slowly  carried  forward,  followed 
by  Mademoiselle  Lavalette  and  the  widow  Dutoil.  When 
they  reached  the  Quay  des  Orfeveres,  they  stopped ; 
Lavalette  came  out  of  the  chair,  and  in  an  instant  dis- 
appeared. 

Soon  after,  the  keeper,  Roquette,  entered  the  chamber 
of  Lavalette,  where  he  saw  no  one,  but  heard  some  one 
stirring  behind  the  screen,  which  formed  part  of  the  fur- 
niture of  the  apartment.  He  concluded  it  was  Lavalette, 
and  withdrew  without  speaking.  After  a  few  minutes, 
he  returned  a  second  time,  and  called ;  no  one  answered. 
He  began  to  fear  some  mischief,  advanced  beyond  the 
screen,  and  there  saw  Madame  Lavalette.  "Il  est  parti" 
she  tremulously  ejaculated.  "  Ah  !  Madame,"  exclaimed 
Roquette,  "  you  have  deceived  me."  He  wished  to  run 
out  to  give  the  alarm,  but  Madame  Lavalette  caught 
hold  of  him  by  the  coat-sleeve.  "  Stay,  Monsieur  Ro- 
quette, stay !  "  "  No,  Madame,  this  is  not  to  be  borne." 
A  struggle  ensued,  in  which  the  coat  was  torn  but  Ro- 
quette at  last  forced  himself  away,  and  gave  the  alarm. 

Lavalette,  after  having  escaped  from  the  Conciergerie, 
15 


170  CONJUGAL   AFFECTION. 

was  still  far  from  being  out  of  danger.  He  had  to  get 
out  of  Paris,  —  out  of  France;  and  a  more  difficult 
achievement  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  conceive ;  for  the 
moment  his  escape  was  discovered,  nothing  could  exceed 
the  activity  with  which  he  was  sought  after  by  the 
agents  of  government.  Bills  describing  his  person  with 
the  greatest  exactness  were  quickly  distributed  all  over 
France ;  and  there  was  not  a  post-master,  postilion,  or 
gendarme  on  any  of  the  roads,  who  had  not  one  of  them 
in  his  pocket.  Lavalette  sought  the  means  of  escape, 
not  among  those  of  his  countrymen  whom  he  knew  to 
be  attached  to  the  cause  for  which  he  was  persecuted, 
nor  even  from  those  whom  affection  or  gratitude  bound 
to  his  family,  but  among  those  strangers  whose  presence, 
as  conquerors,  in  his  native  soil,  he  had  so  much  cause 
to  lament.  He  had  heard  that  to  a  truly  British  heart 
the  pleadings  of  humanity  were  never  made  in  vain  ; 
and  he  was  now  to  try  the  experiment,  in  his  own  per- 
son, of  the  truth  of  the  eulogium.  On  the  2d  of  January 
he  sent  a  person,  with  an  unsigned  letter,  to  Mr.  Michael 
Bruce,  an  English  gentleman,  resident  at  Paris ;  in 
which,  after  extolling  the  goodness  of  his  heart,  the 
writer  said,  he  was  induced,  by  the  confidence  which  he 
inspired,  to  disclose  to  him  a  great  secret  —  that  Lava- 
tette  was  still  in  Paris;  adding  that  he  (Bruce)  alone 
fould  save  him,  and  requesting  him  to  send  a  letter  to  a 
certain  place,  stating  whether  he  would  embark  in  the 
generous  design.  Mr.  Bruce  was  touched  with  com- 
miseration ;  he  spoke  on  the  subject  to  two  other  coun- 
trymen, Sir  Eobert  Wilson  and  Captain  Hutchinson; 
and  the  result  was  that  the  whole  three  joined  in  a 
determination  to  afford  the  unfortunate  fugitive  every 
assistance  in  their  power  to  complete  his  escape.  The 


CONJUGAL  AFFECTION.  17\ 

scheme  which  they  devised  for  that  purpose  was  crowned 
with  complete  success.  Lavalette  was  conveyed  in  safety 
into  a  neutral  territory,  where  he  lived  in  quiet  obscurity, 
until  the  fury  of  the  party  persecution  which  exiled  him 
having  exhausted  itself,  he  was  restored,  by  a  free  par- 
don, to  his  country,  his  family,  and  his  friends.  From 
the  Memoirs  of  Count  Lavalette,  subsequently  written, 
by  himself,  it,  however,  appears,  that  the  noble-hearted 
Madame  Lavalette  paid  with  her  reason  the  price  of  her 
husband's  safety.  Her  mind,  at  once  excited  and  sus- 
tained by  the  presence  of  danger,  sank  with  the  absence 
of  peril;  and  when  Lavalette,  after  five  years'  exile, 
returned  to  France,  he  found  his  devoted  and  beautiful 
wife  the  ruin  of  her  former  self. 

The  tribute  due  to  the  conjugal  heroism  of  Madame 
Lavalette  was  universally  paid,  both  in  France  and 
throughout  Europe ;  even  party  animosity,  which  was 
daily  calling  for  the  execution  of  the  husband,  did  justice 
to  the  wife.  When  the  heads  of  the  different  depart- 
ments were  each  vindicating  themselves  to  the  king 
from  any  share  in  the  blame  of  the  escape,  his  Majesty 
coolly  replied,  "  I  do  not  see  that  anybody  has  done 
their  duty  except  Madame  Lavalette." 

THE   COUNTESS  CONFALIONEEI. 

"  Who  does  not  know  many  instances  of  the  most 
heroic  devotedness  on  the  part  of  the  sex  ?  A  woman 
spares  no  effort  to  serve  her  friend.  When  it  is  a  ques- 
tion of  saving  her  brother,  her  husband,  her  father,  she 
penetrates  into  prisons  —  she  throws  herself  at  the  feet 
of  her  sovereign.  Such  are  the  women  of  our  day, 
and  such  has  history  represented  those  of  antiquity." 
—  GALL. 

THE  Count  Confalioneri,  an  Italian  nobleman,  was, 
*ome  years  ago,  sentenced  to  death  for  some  real  or 


172  CONJUGAL  AFFECTION. 

supposed  conspiracy  against  the  Austrian  government, 
The  moment  his  countess  heard  of  this,  she  flew  to 
Vienna,  but  the  courier  had  already  set  out  with  the 
fatal  mandate  :  it  was  midnight,  but  her  agonies  of 
mind  pleaded  for  instant  admission  to  the  empress. 
The  same  passionate  despair  which  won  the  attendants 
wrought  its  effect  on  their  royal  mistress ;  she  hastened, 
that  moment,  to  the  emperor,  and,  having  succeeded, 
returned  to  the  unhappy  lady  with  a  commutation  of 
the  sentence  to  imprisonment  for  life ;  her  husband's  life 
was  spared.  But  the  death-warrant  was  on  its  way ;  — 
could  she  overtake  the  courier  ?  Throwing  herself  into 
a  conveyance,  and  paying  four  times  the  amount  for 
relays  of  horses,  she  never,  it  is  stated,  stopped  or  tasted 
food  till  she  reached  the  city  of  Milan.  The  count  was 
preparing  to  be  led  to  the  scaffold ;  but  she  was  in  time 
—  she  had  saved  him !  During  her  painful  journey,  the 
countess  had  rested  her  throbbing  brow  upon  a  small 
silk  pillow,  which  she  had  bathed  through  with  her 
tears  —  in  the  conflict  of  mingled  terror  and  hope ;  for 
all  might  be  over :  after  her  death,  which  happened  very 
soon  afterwards,  this  interesting  memorial  of  conjugal 
tenderness  and  truth  in  so  fearful  a  moment,  was  sent 
by  his  judges  to  the  count,  to  show  their  sense  of  his 
wife's  admirable  conduct.  He  carried  it  with  him  to  the 
dungeons  of  Spielberg ;  it  was  his  sole  consolation,  his 
inseparable  companion  by  day  and  by  night.  A  long 
succession  of  governors  and  superintendents  had  all 
respected  its  possession,  and  the  noble  devotedness  of 
heart  which  gave  it  to  him  :  at  length,  in  an  evil  hour, 
Count  von  Vogel  came, — said  it  was  irregular,  and 
deprived  the  captive  count  of  this  last  remaining  source 
of  consolation. 


HUMANITY. 


BAMBARUK  EUDDEB.NG. QUEEN  BLANCHE. CONSTANTIA  OF  AKRA 

GON. QUEEN  PHILIPPA. ISABELLA  OF  SPAIN. EMPRESS  CATH- 
ERINE I. MARIA     THERESA. FEMALE     CONVICTS. WIFE    OF    A 

NEGRO  GENERAL. HEROINE  OF  MATAGORDA. FRENCH  SERVANT- 
GIRL.  LADIES      OF      AMERICA. CLAUDINE      POTOCKA. GRACB 

DARLING. 


"  A  fearful  gift  upon  thy  heart  is  laid, 
Woman  !  a  power  to  suffer  and  to  love ; 
Therefore  thou  so  canst  pity." 

"  How  few,  like  thee,  inquire  the  wretched  out, 
And  court  the  offices  of  soft  humanity ! 
Like  thee,  reserve  their  raiment  for  the  naked, 
Keach  out  their  bread  to  feed  the  crying  orphan, 
Or  mix  their  pitying  tears  with  those  that  weep ! " 

Rows. 

HUMANITY  is  that  sympathy  by  which  we  view  the 
sufferings  of  others  as  inflicted  on  ourselves,  and  desire, 
in  consequence,  to  avert  the  blow.  Thus,  woman,  more 
frequently  than  the  opposite  sex,  is  distinguished  by  this 
virtue,  being,  from  her  helpless  nature,  more  exposed  to 
mental  and  corporeal  afflictions.  Humanity  differs  from 
benevolence  in  its  being  a  feeling  which  makes  the  case 
of  the  injured  or  distressed  immediately  our  own,  while 
benevolence  may  rather  be  esteemed  a  desire  to  give  or 
impart  some  good  or  benefit  we  find  ourselves  possessed 
of  to  the  needy  and  destitute ;  the  former  seeks  to  pre« 
vent  evil,  the  latter  to  promote  good. 


1"~4  HUMANITY. 


HUMANE  PROPOSITION  OF  GAMBARUK  RUDDERING 

"  Hers  was  the  brow,  in  trials  unperplexed, 
That  cheered  the  sad,  aud  tranquillized  the  vexed." 

CAMPBELL. 

DURING  the  reign  of  Snies,  King  of  Denmark,  the 
harvest  failed,  and  all  the  horrors  of  famine  were  expe- 
rienced throughout  the  kingdom.  The  people  had  no 
food,  and  their  sovereign  was  not  able  to  procure  any  for 
them.  They  therefore  assembled,  in  order  to  deliberate 
on  the  best  means  of  extricating  themselves  from  this 
state  of  horrid  misery.  Some  of  the  elders  proposed 
the  desperate  remedy  of  putting  to  death  the  old  people 
and  children,  to  preserve  the  small  quantity  of  suste- 
nance they  had  for  the  young  and  robust,  who,  during 
those  times  of  perpetual  warfare,  were  better  able  to 
defend  their  country.  This  was  a  cruel  proposition,  but 
urgent  necessity  induced  the  king  to  take  it  into  consid- 
eration. A  lady,  however,  of  distinguished  rank,  named 
Gambaruk  Ruddering,  at  the  idea  of  seeing  the  blood  of 
her  countrymen  shed,  came  forward,  and,  addressing  the 
assembly,  showed  them  the  barbarity  of  such  a  design : 
she  then  proposed  that,  instead  of  staining  the  country 
by  so  many  murders,  it  would  be  a  wiser  and  more 
natural  plan,  to  send  a  part  of  the  young  people  out  of 
the  country,  to  search  for  an  establishment.  This  advice 
being  received  with  approbation,  the  young  men  cast  lots 
to  determine  which  of  them  should  leave  the  country. 
Those  on  whom  the  lot  fell  then  assembled,  and,  setting 
out  from  Denmark,  established  themselves,  it  is  said,  in 
Pannonia,  from  which  they  afterwards  passed  into  Italy, 
and  founded  there  the  kingdom  of  the  Lombards. 


HUMANITY.  175 

BENEVOLENT  ACTION  OF  QUEEN  BLANCHE. 
"  What  ail'st  thou  ?     Speak ! " 

DURING  the  second  regency  of  Queen  Blanche,  wife  of 
Louis  VIII.,  of  France,  which  commenced  in  1248,  the 
inhabitants  of  Chatenai,  and  various  towns,  had,  on  arbi- 
trary pretences,  been  imprisoned  by  the  chapter  of  Paris. 
The  deplorable  condition  of  the  French  nation,  at  this 
period,  was  such,  that  the  people  were  sold  as  depend- 
ences with  their  lands. 

A  crowd  of  victims,  wanting  even  the  necessaries  of 
life,  languished  in  the  prisons  of  the  chapter.  Blanche, 
touched  with  their  wretched  situation,  signified  her 
desire  that  they  might  be  released  upon  bail,  assuring 
the  chapter,  while  she  urged  her  request,  that  she  would 
herself  investigate  the  affair,  and  do  them  all  manner  of 
justice.  The  priests,  incensed  at  an  interference  from 
the  civil  power,  alleged,  in  reply,  that  the  prisoners, 
whose  lives  they  held  at  their  disposal,  were  their  sub- 
jects, over  whom  no  other  person  had  any  authority. 
In  defiance  of  Blanche,  and  in  proof  of  the  power  which 
they  thus  asserted  and  abused,  they  seized  also  on  the 
women  and  children,  whom  they  had  before  spared. 
The  sufferings  of  the  prisoners  being  thus  aggravated, 
many  of  them  perished  with  famine  and  pestilential 
disorders. 

The  regent,  indignant  at  the  despotism  thus  insolent 
and  inhuman,  determined  to  use  with  these  merciless 
oppressors  the  last  argument  of  force.  Proceeding  with 
her  guards  to  the  prison  gates,  she  commanded  them  to 
be  opened.  The  soldiers  hesitating  to  obey  her,  she 
struck,  with  a  stick  she  had  in  her  hand,  the  first  blow : 
the  st':oke  being  instantly  seconded,  the  gates  were 


176  HUMANITY, 

quickly  destroyed,  when  a  crowd  of  miserable  wretches, 
their  faces  squalid  and  disfigured,  and  their  garments 
tattered,  came  forth. 

Casting  themselves  at  the  feet  of  the  queen,  they 
implored  her  protection,  without  which,  the  grace  she 
had  conferred  upon  them  could  serve  but  to  aggravate 
their  distress.  Blanche,  having  promised  to  grant  their 
request,  took  effectual  measures  for  the  fulfilment  of  her 
engagement.  Seizing  upon  the  revenues  of  the  chapter, 
she  compelled  their  submission,  and  even  obliged  them 
to  affranchise  the  inhabitants  for  a  certain  yearly  stipend 


CONSTANTIA  OF  ARRAGON. 

"  The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strained ; 
It  droppeth  as  the  gentle  rain  from  heaven 
Upon  the  place  beneath.     It  is  twice  blessed  ; 
It  blesseth  him  that  gives,  and  him  that  takes." 

SHAKSPEARB. 

"  DURING  the  period  of  the  wars  between  the  king- 
doms of  Naples  and  Sicily,  Charles,  Prince  of  Salerno, 
only  son  of  the  King  of  Naples,  was  taken  prisoner  by 
the  Sicilians,  and  carried  by  them  into  Sicily ;  he  was, 
however,  fortunate  enough  to  escape  the  general  massa- 
cre of  the  Neapolitan  prisoners,  which  took  place  imme- 
diately after  their  arrival  in  that  kingdom. 

"  Constantia  of  Arragon,  who  governed  Sicily  in  the 
absence  of  her  husband,  Peter,  terrified  by  the  ferocious 
clamors  of  the  populace,  who,  on  the  destruction  of  the 
other  prisoners,  demanded  the  immediate  execution  of 
the  piince,  sent  him  orders  to  prepare  within  a  few  hours 
for  death.  Fortunately  for  Charles,  the  day  appointed 
for  his  death  was  a  Friday :  he  received  Constantia'a 
message  with  an  unmoved  countenance,  calmly  reply* 


HUMANITY.  177 

ing,  '  I  am  well  content  to  die  that  grievous  death, 
remembering  tha  my  Lord  and  Saviour  on  this  day  volun- 
tarily suffered  his  death  and  passion.' 

"  Constantia  was  recalled  to  a  sense  of  her  Christian 
duties  by  these  words,  and  immediately  sent  to  tell  him, 
'  that,  if  he,  for  respect  to  that  day,  would  suffer  death 
so  contentedly,  she,  for  the  love  of  him  who  on  that  day 
had  pardoned  his  enemies,  would  pardon  him  also.' 
From  that  moment  she  used  every  means  to  protect 
him  from  the  ferocity  of  the  Sicilians  ;  and  by  the  em- 
ployment, sometimes  of  force,  sometimes  of  conciliation, 
had  him  at  last  safely  conducted  to  Arragon." 

PHILIPPA   OF    HAINAULT 

"  Boast  of  thy  sex,  and  glory  of  the  throne  ! 

O'er  all  thy  form  what  matchless  graces  spread, 
When  thy  fair  eyes  in  moist  suffusion  shone, 

And  from  thy  cheek  the  changing  crimson  fled, 
As  on  the  neck  of  Edward's  captive  foes 
To  thy  afflicted  sight  the  opprobiious  cord  arose  ! 

"  Oh  !  while  the  fair,  with  soul-subduing  power, 

On  her  bent  knee  their  forfeit  lives  implored  ; 
When,  like  two  stars  seen  through  a  rushing  shower, 

Her  watery  eyes  gazed  earnest  on  her  lord, 
'Twas  then  thy  virtues,  loveliest  queen,  outshone 
Thy  Edward's  victor-plume,  waving  o'er  Gallia's  throne  !  " 

ANNA  SEWARD. 

PHILIPPA,  wife  of  Edward  the  Third,  King  of  England, 
affords  a  memorable  instance  of  humanity. 

Wnen,  after  the  siege  of  Calais,  Sir  Walter  de  Manny 
returned  to  the  camp  of  the  victorious  Edward,  bringing 
with  him  the  noble  patriot,  Eustace  de  St.  Pierre,  and 
his  fellow-hostages,  the  monarch  inquired,  "  Are  these 
the  principal  inhabitants  of  Calais  ? "  '4  They  are," 
answered  Manny,  "  not  only  the  principal  men  of  Calais, 
but  the  principal  men  in  France,  if  virtue  has  any  share 


178  HUMANITY. 

in  nobility.'  "  Were  they  delivered  peaceably  ? "  in- 
quired Edward  :  "  was  there  no  resistance,  no  commo- 
tion among  the  people  ? "  "  None  in  the  least,  sire. 
The  people  would  all  have  perished  rather  than  have 
delivered  the  least  of  these  to  your  Majesty ;  but  they 
are  self-delivered,  self-devoted,  and  come  to  offer  their 
inestimable  heads  as  an  ample  equivalent  for  the  ransom 
of  thousands." 

Edward  was  secretly  piqued  at  this  answer  of  Manny, 
but  he  knew  the  privilege  of  a  British  subject,  and  sup- 
pressed his  resentment.  "  Experience,"  said  he,  "  has 
ever  shown  that  lenity  only  serves  to  invite  people  to 
new  crimes.  Severity  at  times  is  indispensably  neces- 
sary to  compel  subjects  to  submission.  —  Go,"  he  cried 
to  an  officer,  "  lead  these  men  to  execution."  At  this 
instant,  the  sound  of  a  trumpet  was  heard  throughout 
the  camp.  The  queen  had  just  arrived  with  a  reinforce- 
ment of  gallant  troops  from  England.  Sir  Walter  de 
Manny  flew  to  her  Majesty,  and  briefly  informed  her  of 
the  particulars  respecting  the  six  victims.  As  soon  a;, 
Philippa  had  been  welcomed  by  Edward  and  his  court, 
her  Majesty  desired  a  private  audience.  "My  lord," 
said  this  noble  lady  to  her  royal  husband,  "  the  question 
I  am  to  enter  upon  is  not  touching  the  lives  of  a  few 
mechanics ;  it  respects  the  glory  of  my  Edward,  my 
husband,  my  king.  You  think  you  have  sacrificed  six 
of  your  enemies  to  death.  No,  my  lord,  they  have 
sentenced  themselves.  The  stage  on  which  they  would 
suffer  would  be  to  them  a  stage  of  honor ;  but,  to 
Edward,  a  stage  of  shame  ;  a  reproach  to  his  conquests, 
an  indelible  stain  on  his  name."  These  words  flashed 
conviction  on  the  soul  of  Edward.  "  I  have  done  wrong, 
very  wrong,"  he  exclaimed ;  '•  let  the  execution  be  instantly 


HUMANITY.  179 

stayed,  and  the  captives  be  brought  before  us."  St. 
Pierre  and  his  friends  soon  made  their  appearance ; 
when  the  queen  thus  addressed  them:  —  "Natives  of 
France,  and  inhabitants  of  Calais !  you  have  put  us  to 
a  vast  expense  of  blood  and  treasure  in  the  recovery  of 
our  just  and  natural  inheritance :  but  you  have  acted 
up  to  the  best  of  an  erroneous  judgment,  and  we  admire 
and  honor  in  you  that  valor  and  virtue  by  which  we  are 
so  long  kept  out  of  our  rightful  possessions.  Noble 
burghers !  excellent  citizens !  though  you  were  tenfold 
the  enemies  of  our  person  and  our  throne,  we  can  feel 
nothing  on  our  part  save  respect  and  affection  for  you. 
You  have  been  sufficiently  tried.  We  loose  your  chains . 
we  snatch  you  from  the  scaffold ;  and  we  thank  you  for 
that  lesson  of  humiliation  which  you  teach  us,  when 
you  show  us  that  excellence  is  not  of  blood,  of  title,  or 
station ;  that  virtue  gives  a  dignity  superior  to  that  of 
kings ;  and  that  those  whom  the  Almighty  informs 
with  sentiments  like  yours  are  justly  and  universally 
raised  above  all  human  distinctions."  "Ah,  my  coun- 
try ! "  exclaimed  St.  Pierre,  "  it  is  now  that  I  tremble  for 
you ;  Edward  only  arms  our  cities,  but  Philippa  conquers 
hearts." 

NOBLE   CONDUCT  OF   QUEEN  ISABELLA  OF  SPAIN 

"  Wilt  thou  draw  near  the  nature  of  the  gods, 
Draw  near  them  then  in  being  merciful !  "  —  SHAKSPEARB. 

DURING  the  war  against  the  Moors,  Queen  Isabella 
shared  in  most  of  the  campaigns,  animating  her  husband 
and  generals  by  her  courage  and  undaunted  perseverance ; 
providing  for  the  support  of  the  armies  by  her  forethought 
and  economy ;  comforting  them  under  their  reverses  by 
her  sweet  and  gracious  speeches,  and  pious  confidence 


ISO  HUMANITY. 

in  Heaven ;  and,  by  her  active  humanity,  and  her  benev- 
olent sympathy  extended  to  friend  and  foe,  softening,  as 
far  as  possible,  the  miseries  of  war.  She  was  the  first 
who  appointed  regular  military  surgeons  to  attend  the 
movements  of  the  army,  and  be  at  hand  on  the  field  of 
battle.  These  surgeons  were  paid  out  of  her  own  reve- 
nues; and  she  also  provided  six  spacious  tents,  furnished 
with  beds  and  all  things  requisite  for  the  sick  and 
wounded,  which  were  called  the  "  Queen's  Hospital." 
Thus,  to  the  compassionate  heart  of  a  woman,  directed 
by  energy  and  judgment,  the  civilized  world  was  first 
indebted  for  an  expedient  which  has  since  saved  so 
many  lives,  and  accomplished  so  much  towards  allevi- 
ating the  frightful  evils  of  war. 

Another  point  in  the  chancier  of  Isabella,  which  must 
reflect  eternal  honor  upon  her  name,  was  her  declaring 
the  American  Indians  free,  and  ordering  the  instant 
return  of  several  cargoes  of  them,  which  had  been  sent 
to  Spain  for  slaves. 

HUMANITY  OF  CATHERINE   THE   FIRST 

"  Teach  me  to  feel  another's  woe, 

To  hide  the  faults  I  see  ; 
That  mercy  I  to  others  show, 
That  mercy  show  to  me."  —  POPE. 

CATHERINE  THE  FIRST,  Empress  of  Russia,  was  ce*e 
brated  for  her  humane  and  compassionate   disposition. 
Upon  many  occasions  during  the  lifetime  of  her  husband, 
the  Czar  Peter,  she  exerted  all  her  influence  with  him  in 
behalf  of  the  unfortunate. 

This  empress  received  the  following  handsome  compli- 
ment from  Motraye,  who  says,  "  She  had  in  some  sort 
the  government  of  all  his  (Peter's)  passions,  and  even 


HUMANITY.  181 

saved  the  lives  of  a  great  many  persons ;  she  inspired 
him  with  that  humanity,  which,  in  the  opinion  of  his 
subjects,  nature  seemed  to  have  denied  him.  A  word 
from  her  mouth,  in  favor  of  a  wretch  just  going  to 
be  sacrificed  to  his  anger,  would  disarm  him ;  but  if  he 
was  fully  resolved  to  gratify  that  passion,  he  would  give 
orders  for  the  execution  when  she  was  absent,  for  fear 
she  should  plead  for  the  victim."  In  a  word,  to  use  the 
expression  of  the  celebrated  Munich,  "  Elle  etait  propre- 
ment  la  mediatrice  entre  la  monarque  et  ses  sujets." 

After  Peter's  death,  the  humanity  of  Catherine  was 
still  more  remarkable.  She  had  promised  that  during 
her  reign  nobody  should  be  put  to  death,  and  she  kept 
her  word.  The  greatest  malefactors  were  only  con- 
demned to  labor  in  the  mines,  and  at  other  public  works; 
a  regulation  not  less  prudent  than  humane,  since  it  ren- 
dered their  punishment  of  some  advantage  to  the  state. 

Catherine  was  the  first  sovereign  that  showed  this 
regard  to  the  human  species ;  and  the  lenity  which  she 
displayed  was  carried  to  a  degree  unparalleled  in  the 
history  of  any  other  nation. 


THE   EMPRESS  MAEIA  THERESA. 

"  Earthly  power  doth  then  show  likest  God's, 
When  mercy  seasons  justice."  —  SHAKSPEARE. 

DURING  the  reign  of  the  Empress  Maria  Theresa,  a 
great  scarcity  of  provisions  prevailed  in  Bohemia,  and 
numbers  of  famishing  people  flocked  to  the  capital, 
(Prague,)  imploring  relief.  The  governor  of  the  city 
wrote  to  the  court  of  Vienna,  that  the  misery  of  the  poor 
people  was  at  length  driving  them  to  acts  of  turbulence 
and  outrage,  which  he  had  not  a  sufficient  force  either 
16 


HUMANITY. 


to  prevent  or  suppress.  The  empress  immediately 
despatched  General  Count  Dalton  to  take  the  command 
at  Prague,  to  which  several  regiments  were  ordered  to 
repair  by  forced  marches.  As  soon  as  the  count  found 
himself  sufficiently  reinforced,  he  ordered  all  the  cannon 
on  the  ramparts  to  be  turned  against  the  city ;  and,  hav- 
ing so  dispersed  his  troops  that  it  was  impossible  for  any 
of  the  disaffected  to  escape,  he  walked  alone  in  the  midst 
of  some  thousands  of  them  who  were  assembled  together, 
and  addressing  them  with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  observed, 
that  it  was  not  by  criminal  modes  they  should  seek 
relief,  because  by  so  doing  they  must  necessarily  draw 
on  their  heads  the  vengeance  of  government ;  he  desired, 
therefore,  nay,  he  begged,  that  he  might  not  be  reduced 
to  the  fatal  necessity  of  ordvjing  his  troops  to  disperse 
them.  The  people  listened  to  the  count  with  great 
attention,  and  replied  to  him  with  a  coolness  which  sur- 
prised him.  They  said,  his  artillery  and  his  troops  had 
no  terrors  for  them ;  that  what  he  threatened  them  with  as 
rigor,  they  would  consider  as  mercy ;  for  a  speedy  death 
with  a  cannon-ball  was  infinitely  preferable  to  the  lin- 
gering death  which  they  were  suffering  by  famine.  The 
count  was  melted,  even  to  tears.  He  then  addressed 
them  again,  and  told  them  his  heart  bled  for  them, 
but  it  was  his  duty  to  preserve  the  peace  of  the  city; 
and  he  would  be  censured  if,  by  his  forbearance  and 
compassion,  that  peace  was  destroyed ;  he  therefore 
entreated  them,  as  it  were  for  his  sake,  to  disperse, 
assuring  them  that  he  would  immediately  transmit  a 
faithful  representation  of  their  distresses  to  the  empress 
from  whose  goodness  they  had  reason  to  expect  every 
kind  of  relief. 

The  people,  whom  the  dread  of  death  could  not  move, 


HUMANITY.  183 

were  filled  with  gratitude  for  the  general's  conduct;  they 
instantly  began  to  disperse,  every  man  cheering  him  as 
he  passed,  and  excla  ming  '•'•Lang  Live  Dalian!" 

The  representation  which  the  count  sent  to  Vienna 
drew  tears  from  the  empress.  "  Good  God  !  "  exclaimed 
she,  "  what  have  my  poor  people  been  suffering,  without 
my  knowledge!  To  vhat cruel  miseries  have  they  been 
exposed,  through  the  gnorance  I  was  in  of  their  deplor- 
able situation !  How  greatly  am  I  indebted  to  the 
moderation  and  humanity  of  Count  Dalton,  who  has 
saved  me  from  the  gui.lt  of  being  the  butcher  of  my  poor, 
starving  subjects,  and  who  has  painted  in  such  moving 
colors  those  distresses,  which  others,  whose  duty  it  was 
to  make  them  known  to  me,  carefully  concealed  from 
my  knowledge,  representing  the  rising  of  the  people  as 
the  effect  of  a  seditious  disposition  ! " 

Her  Majesty  immediately  despatched  eight  hundred 
wagons,  loaded  with  corn,  to  Prague  ;  and  sent  a  letter 
of  thanks  to  General  Dalton,  in  her  own  handwriting 
for  his  meritorious  behavior  on  this  trying  occasion. 


HUMANE   BEHAVIOR  OF   SOME  FEMALE  CONVICTS. 

"  We  do  pray  for  mercy, 

And  that  same  prayer  doth  teach  us  all  to  render 
The  deeds  of  mercy."  —  SHAKSPEARE. 

AT  the  time  the  yellow  fever  broke  out  in  Philadel- 
phia, there  was  great  difficulty  in  procuring  nurses  for 
the  sick  at  the  hospital.  In  this  dilemma,  recourse  was 
had  to  the  prison.  The  apparent  danger  was  stated  to 
the  female  convicts,  and  their  assistance  was  requested. 
The  behavior  of  these  women  on  the  occasion  was  admi- 
rable. As  many  offered  their  services  as  were  wanted. 


184  HUMANITY. 

and  continued  faithful  till  the  dreadful  scene  was  closed 
none  of  them  making  any  demand  for  their  assistance 
till  all  were  discharged.  When  requested  to  give  up 
their  bedsteads  for  the  use  of  the  sick  at  the  hospital, 
they  most  humanely  offered  even  their  bedding,  resign- 
ing willingly  any  little  comforts  they  possessed,  to  alle- 
viate the  wants  of  their  distressed  fellow-creatures. 


HUMANITY  OF  A  NEGRESS. 

*'  Oh  where  is  rathe  ?  Or  where  is  pittie  now  ? 
Whither  is  gentle  hart  and  mercy  fled  ? 
Are  they  exilde  cart  of  our  stony  brestes, 
Never  to  make  returne  ?    Is  all  the  worlde 
Drowned  in  blood  and  suncke  in  cruel  tie? 
If  not,  in  women  mercy  may  be  found." 

Gorboduc,  a  Tragedy. 


,  in  giving  the  History  of  Women,  mentions  the 
wife  of  a  negro  general,  who,  at  the  time  he  was  writing, 
was  serving  under  Toussaint  L'Ouverture.  He  says, 
"  She  is  of  so  tender  and  humane  a  disposition,  that  she 
exposes  herself  to  every  risk  to  save  the  unfortunate 
prisoners  in  the  terrible  warfare  of  St.  Domingo.  Her 
husband,  enraged  at  this  display  of  commiseration,  has 
threatened  a  thousand  times  to  put  her  to  death  ;  but 
nothing  can  shake  her  steady  resolution.  She  is  less 
apprehensive  of  the  execrable  ferocity  of  her  husband, 
than  of  ceasing  to  be  sufficiently  useful  to  the  vic- 
tims of  the  war.  Thus,  therefore,  among  a  race  of 
uneducated  beings,  a  woman  can  feel  a  profound  senti- 
ment of  pity  for  those  whom  she  is  taught  to  consider  as 
her  enemies  !  Humanity,  the  first  of  virtues,  and  the 
most  useful  to  social  order,  has  established  its  dominion 
over  her  breast  !  Her  life  is  marked  by  memorable 


HUMANITY.  1S5 

traits  of  heroism,  which  might  shed  a  lustre  on  that  of 
the  most  enlightened  and  courageous  men." 


THE  HEROINE  OF  MATAGORDA. 

"Oh!  I  have  suffered 
With  those  that  I  saw  suffer !  " — SHAKSPEARE. 

AMONG  those  women  who  have  ennobled  themselves 
by  their  virtuous  actions,  we  must  not  omit  to  mention 
the  "  Heroine  of  Matagorda."  The  widow  of  Serjeant 
Retson,  of  the  94th,  won  the  above  title,  and  a  place  in 
our  national  history,  by  her  heroic  devotedness  at  the 
bombardment  of  Matagorda  in  1810,  where  she  recklessly 
exposed  her  life,  not  through  any  wild  or  wayward 
impulse,  but  to  secure  for  the  wounded  soldiers  in  the 
casemates  the  invaluable  refreshment  of  water.  Some 
years  after  the  war,  and  upon  the  death  of  her  husband, 
this  high-hearted  woman,  who,  in  the  French  service, 
would  have  been  decorated  and  pensioned,  was  formally 
told  that  there  was  no  fund  out  of  which  she  could  be 
awarded  the  smallest  pittance,  and  she  was  thrown  upon 
the  world.  She  met  her  fate  with  characteristic  forti- 
tude, and  has  since  supported  herself  in  the  cheerless 
and  exhausting  toils  of  a  nurse  in  the  town  hospital  of 
Glasgow.  Three  years  ago,  she  being  then  in  her 
seventy-second  year,  her  existence  and  trials  were  made 
known  to  the  service,  to  which,  in  her  honest,  simple 
nature,  she  had  never  sought  to  appeal,  by  the  voice  of 
ihe  press.  The  result  was,  as  might  have  been  antici- 
pated, that  a  committee  of  the  most  honored  veterans  of 
the  British  army  was  immediately  formed,  and  a  subscrip- 
tion raised  from  every  one  of  its  ranks,  to  rescue  this 
16* 


186  HUMANITY. 

object  of  the  soldier's  sympathy  from  an  old  age  of 
pauperism. 

The  following  paragraph,  which  appeared  in  the  Times 
newspaper  of  April  2d,  1847,  strongly  marks  the  char- 
acter for  humanity  possessed  by  this  worthy  individual. 
To  the  scene  of  her  former  industrious  and  humble  efforts 
to  obtain  a  livelihood,  the  town's  hospital  of  Glasgow, 
she  now  came  in  the  manner  thus  described  :*  "  We 
were  very  much  struck  and  delighted,  on  Friday  after- 
noon, with  a  visit  from  the  venerable  old  lady,  Mrs.  Ret- 
son,  the  '  Heroine  of  Matorgorda,'  now  in  her  seventy- 
fifth  year,  whose  remarkable  and  glorious  deeds  at  that 
place  shed  a  lustre  over  her  name  ;  and  the  prowess  of 
her  arm,  in  succoring  the  English  soldiers,  in  the  midst 
of  the  most  dreadful  carnage,  will  form  a  thrilling  page 
in  the  history  of  England.  She  came  with  a  pound  note 
for  the  Sunday  soup-kitchen,  saying,  that  when  she  read 
that  the  soldiers  of  the  74th  regiment  were  cooking  for 
the  poor,  and  that  the  recruiting  soldiers  of  Glasgow  had 
contributed  their  allowance  for  the  same  humane  end, 
her  heart  leapt  with  joy ;  and  she  declared  she  could  not 
rest  until  she  came  to  pour  in  her  donation  with  theirs, 
for  the  poor  and  destitute.  We  were  very  averse  to 
accept  of  the  money,  but  she  insisted  upon  it  with  the 
most  martial  vigor,  and  said  she  had  plenty  now  to  end 
her  old  days  in  peace  and  comfort ;  and  she  went  away 
perfectly  delighted  at  the  invitation  we  gave  her  to  come 
and  inspect  the  rations  herself,  in  these  old  battlements, 
at  the  Glasgow  town's  hospital,  within  whose  precincts 
she  sojourned  till  she  was  discovered  and  rescued  some 
few  years  ago." 

*  In  the  Reformer's  Gazette. 


HUMANITY  187 


EEMARKABLE  PRESENCE  OF  MIND. 

"  How  poor  an  instrument 
May  do  a  noble  deed!" — SHAKSPEAHE. 

SOME  years  ago,  an  instance  of  humanity  and  presence 
of  mind  occurred  at  a  place  called  Noyon,  in  France, 
which  deserves  to  be  commemorated  here. 

"  Four  men,  who  were  employed  in  cleansing  a  com- 
mon sewer,  upon  opening  a  drain,  were  so  affected  by 
the  fetid  vapors,  that  they  were  unable  to  ascend.  The 
lateness  of  the  hour  (for  it  was  eleven  at  night)  rendered 
it  difficult  to  procure  assistance,  and  the  delay  must  have 
been  fatal,  had  not  a  young  girl,  a  servant  in  the  family, 
with  courage  and  humanity  that  would  have  done  honor 
to  the  most  elevated  station,  at  the  hazard  of  her  own 
life,  attempted  their  deliverance.  This  generous  girl, 
who  was  only  seventeen  years  of  age,  was,  at  her  own 
request,  let  down  several  times  to  the  poor  men  by  a 
rope  :  she  was  so  fortunate  as  to  save  two  of  them  pretty 
easily,  but,  in  tying  the  third  to  the  cord,  which  was  let 
down  to  her  for  that  purpose,  she  found  her  breath  fail- 
ing, and  was  so  much  affected  by  the  vapor  as  to  be  in 
danger  of  suffocation.  In  this  dreadful  situation,  she 
had  the  presence  of  mind  to  tie  herself  by  her  hair  to 
the  rope,  and  was  drawn  up,  almost  expiring,  with  the 
poor  man  in  whose  behalf  she  had  so  humanely  exerted 
herself. 

'•  Far  from  being  intimidated  by  the  danger  of  the 
enterprise,  the  moment  she  recovered  her  spirits,  she 
insisted  upon  being  let  down  for  the  poor  creature  thai 
remained,  which  she  actually  was ;  but  her  exertions 
this  time  failed  of  success,  for  the  unfortunate  man  was 
drawn  up  dead. 


188  HUMANITY. 

"  The  corporation  of  the  town  of  Noyon,  as  a  small 
token  of  their  approbation,  presented  the  generous  gir, 
with  six  hundred  livres,  and  conferred  on  her  the  civic 
crown,  with  a  medal  engraved  with  the  arms  of  the 
town,  her  name,  and  a  narrative  of  the  action.  The 
Duke  of  Orleans  also  sent  her  five  hundred  livres,  and 
settled  two  hundred  yearly  on  her  for  life." 


ADMIRABLE    CONDUCT   OF   THE    LADIES   OF 
AMERICA. 

"  'T  is  truth  divine,  exhibited  on  earth, 
Gives  charity  her  being  and  her  birth."  —  COWPER. 

DURING  the  war  between  the  Turks  and  the  Greeks, 
some  American  ladies,  touched  by  the  hardships  and 
stifferings  of  the  latter  people,  presented  them  with  a 
ship  containing  money  and  various  articles  of  wearing- 
apparel,  wrought  by  their  own  hands  ;  an  offering  which, 
in  their  forlorn  situation,  must  have  been  highly  accepta- 
ble to  the  unfortunate  Greeks. 

The  letter  of  Mrs.  Sigourney,  of  Hartford,  Connecti- 
cut, to  the  Ladies'  Greek  Committee  of  that  place,  to 
accompany  the  contributions  prepared  for  the  Archipelago, 
was  as  follows  :  — 

"  United  States  of  America,  March  12,  1828.  The 
Ladies  of  Hartford,  in  Connecticut,  to  the  Ladies 
of  Greece. 

"  Sisters  and  Friends,  —  From  the  years  of  childhood 
your  native  clime  has  been  the  theme  of  our  admiration : 
together  with  our  brothers  a  id  our  husbands,  we  early 
learned  to  love  the  country  of  Homer,  Aristides,  of  Solon, 
and  of  Socrates.  That  enthusiasm  which  the  glory  of 
ancient  Greece  en-kindled  in  our  bosoms  has  preserved  a 


HUMANITY.  189 

fervent  friendship  for  her  descendants  :  we  have  beheld, 
with  deep  sympathy,  the  horrors  of  Turkish  domination, 
and  the  struggle  so  long  and  nobly  sustained  by  them  for 
existence  and  for  liberty.  , 

"  The  communications  of  Dr.  Howe,  since  his  return 
from  your  land,  have  made  us  more  intimately  acquainted 
with  your  personal  sufferings.  He  has  presented  many 
of  you  to  us,  in  his  vivid  descriptions,  as  seeking  refuge 
in  caves,  and,  under  the  branches  of  olive  trees,  listening 
for  the  footsteps  of  the  destroyer,  and  mourning  over 
your  dearest  ones  slain  in  battle. 

"  Sisters  and  friends,  our  hearts  bleed  for  you.  De- 
prived of  your  protectors  by  the  fortune  of  war,  and 
continually  in  fear  of  evils  worse  than  death,  our  prayers 
are  with  you,  in  all  your  wanderings,  your  wants  and 
your  griefs.  In  this  vessel,  (which  may  God  send  in 
safety  to  your  shores !)  you  will  receive  a  portion  of  that 
bounty  wherewith  He  hath  blessed  us.  The  poor  among 
us  have  given  according  to  their  ability,  and  our  little 
children  have  cheerfully  aided,  that  some  of  you  and 
your  children  might  have  bread  to  eat,  and  raiment  to 
put  on.  Could  you  but  behold  the  faces  of  our  little 
ones  brighten,  and  their  eyes  sparkle  with  joy,  while 
they  give  up  their  holidays,  that  they  might  work  with 
their  needles  for  Greece  ;  could  you  see  those  females 
who  earn  a  subsistence  by  labor  gladly  casting  their  mite 
into  our  treasury,  and  taking  hours  from  their  repose, 
that  an  additional  garment  might  be  furnished  for  you ; 
could  you  witness  the  active  spirit  that  pervades  all 
classes  of  our  community,  it  would  cheer  for  a  moment 
the  darkness  and  misery  of  your  lot. 

"  We  are  inhabitants  of  a  part  of  one  of  the  smallest 
>f  the  United  States,  and  our  donations  must,  therefore, 


J90  HUMANITY. 

of  necessity,  be  more  limited  than  those  from  the  largei 
and  more  wealthy  cities  ;  yet,  such  as  we  have,  we  give 
in  the  name  of  our  dear  Saviour,  with  our  blessings  and 
our  prayers. 

"  We  know  the  value  of  sympathy  — how  it  arms  the 
heart  to  endure — how  it  plucks  the  sting  from  sorrow  — 
therefore,  we  have  written  these  few  lines  to  assure  you, 
that,  in  the  remoter  parts  of  our  country,  as  well  as  in 
her  high  places,  you  are  remembered  with  pity  and  with 
affection. 

"  Sisters  and  friends,  we  extend  across  the  ocean  our 
hands  to  you  in  the  fellowship  of  Christ.  We  pray  that 
his  Cross  and  the  banner  of  your  land  may  rise  together 
over  the  Crescent  and  the  Minaret  —  that  your  sons  may 
hail  the  freedom  of  ancient  Greece  restored,  and  build 
again  the  waste  places  which  the  oppressor  hath  trodden 
down  ;  and  that  you,  admitted  once  more  to  the  felicities 
of  home,  may  gather  from  past  perils  and  adversities  a 
brighter  wreath  for  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  ! 

"LYDIA  H.  SlGOURNEY, 
"  Secretary  of  the  Greek  Committee  of 
Hartford,  Connecticut" 


SELF-DEVOTION  OF  CLAUDINE   POTOCKA 

"  Men  sacrifice  others  !  "Women,  themselves !  " 

MRS.  S.  C.  HAJ.L. 

CLAUDINE  POTOCKA,  sprung  from  one  of  the  oldest  and 
noblest  houses  of  Poland,  that  of  the  Counts  Dzialynski, 
married  at  sixteen  into  another,  that  of  the  Counts 
Potocki,  and  had  enjoyed  six  years  of  wedded  happiness, 
when,  in  November,  1830,  Poland  rose  against  Russia. 
Count  Potocka  instantly  left  his  quiet  home,  in  the  Grand 


HUMANITY.  191 

Duchy  of  Posen  and  flew  to  Warsaw,  to  share  the  dan- 
gers of  his  countrymen.  His  wife  followed,  not,  like 
some  of  her  fair  compatriots,  to  battle  in  the  Polish  ranks, 
but  to  devote  her  blooming  youth  to  the  service  of  the 
hospitals,  where,  for  seven  months,  she  consecrated  her- 
self, wholly  and  unremittingly,  to  tendance  upon  the 
wounded,  and  upon  the  victims  of  the  cholera.  When 
Warsaw  surrendered,  she  accompanied  the  army  to  Mod- 
lin,  and,  upon  the  retreat,  resigned  the  single  truss  of 
straw  procured  for  her  own  bed  to  a  sick  officer,  destitute 
of  even  such  wretched  accommodation!  When  all  was 
over,  she  made  use  of  the  passport  granted  her  in  con- 
sideration of  her  sex,  to  rescue  those  most  implicated  ana 
most  hopeless  of  escape,  by  passing  them  as  her  servants ; 
and,  when  danger  threatened  the  party,  she  pledged  her 
person  and  property  to  the  Prussian  government  for  their 
conduct.  The  Countess  Potocka  is  now  living  at  Dres- 
den, where,  we  understand,  the  residue  of  her  fortune, 
her  trinkets,  her  personal  attentions,  and  even  the  prod- 
uce of  her  manual  labor,  as  a  copyist,  are  still  dedicated 
to  the  continuance  of  the  same  work  of  patriotic  charity, 
in  relief  of  the  distress  of  her  exiled  and  indigent  coun- 
trymen. 

INSTINCTIVE   COURAGE   OF  GRACE    DARLING. 
"  A  rarer  spirit  never  did  steer  humanity."  —  SHAKSPEARE, 

IN  concluding  these  records  of  the  humanity  of  woman, 
what  name  is  more  deserving  of  a  place  in  our  pages  than 
that  of  Grace  Darling  ?  a  name,  from  the  court  to  the  cot- 
tage, associated  with  one  of  the  noblest  acts  of  heroism 
which  have  done  honor  to  the  female  sex.  I  will  pro- 
ceed at  once  to  her  history,  for  the  conduct  of  this  young 


192  HUMANITY. 

woman  needs  no  comment;  it  appeals  directly  to  the 
heart  of  every  individual. 

"  Grace  Darling  was  one  of  the  numerous  family  of 
William  Darling,  a  light-house  keeper.  Her  grandfather, 
Kobert  Darling,  originally  a  cooper,  at  Dunse,  in  Ber- 
wickshire, removed  to  Belford,  in  Northumberland,  and 
finally  settled  as  keeper  of  the  coal-light  on  the  Browns- 
man,  the  outermost  of  the  Fame  Islands,  on  the  coast 
of  the  last-mentioned  county.  William  Darling  suc- 
ceeded his  father  in  that  situation,  but  in  1826  was 
transferred  to  the  lighthouse  on  the  Longstone,  another 
of  the  same  group  of  islands. 

"  Grace  was  born  November  24, 1815,  at  Bamborough, 
on  the  Northumberland  coast,  being  the  seventh  child 
of  her  parents.  These  children  were  all  educated  in  a 
respectable  manner ;  Grace  writing  a  hand  equal  to  that 
of  most  ladies.  She  assisted  her  mother  in  managing 
the  little  household  at  Longstone,  and  was  remarkable 
for  her  retiring  and  somewhat  reserved  disposition.  She 
had  reached  her  twenty-second  year  when  the  incident 
occurred  by  which  her  name  has  been  rendered  so 
famous." 

The  Fame  Islands,  twenty-five  in  number  at  low  tide, 
though  situated  at  no  great  distance  from  the  Northum- 
brian coast,  are  desolate  in  an  uncommon  degree ;  and 
through  the  channels  between  the  smaller  Fame  Islands 
the  sea  rushes  with  great  force.  Many  a  shipwreck  must 
have  happened  there  in  ancient  as  well  as  modern  times. 
Some  of  these  are  on  record,  but  I  will  not  pause  to 
relate  them.  Mr.  Howitt,  speaking  of  his  visit  to  Long- 
stone  says,  "It  was,  like  the  rest  of  these  desolate  isles, 
all  of  dark  whinstone,  cracked  in  every  direction,  and 
worn  with  the  action  of  winds,  waves,  and  tempests, 


HUMANITY.  193 

Bince  the  world  began.  Over  the  greater  part  of  it  was 
not  a  blade  of  grass,  nor  a  grain  of  earth ;  it  was  bare 
and  iron-like  stone,  crusted  round  all  the  coast,  as  far  as 
high-water  mark,  with  limpet  and  still  smaller  shelJs. 
We  ascended  wrinkled  hills  of  black  stone,  and  de- 
scended into  worn  and  dismal  dells  of  the  same ;  into 
some  of  which,  where  the  tide  got  entrance,  it  came 
pouring  and  roaring,  in  raging  whiteness,  and  churning 
the  loose  fragments  of  whinstone  into  round  pebbles,  and 
piling  them  up  in  deep  crevices  with  sea-weeds,  like 
great  round  ropes,  and  heaps  of  fucus.  Over  our  heads 
screamed  hundreds  of  hovering  birds,  the  gull  mingling 
its  hideous  laughter  most  wildly." 

Such  was  the  scene  of  the  early  days  of  Grace  Dar- 
ling :  this  young  person  herself  is  said  to  have  been  about 
the  middle  size,  of  fair  complexion,  and  a  comely  coun- 
tenance, with  nothing  masculine  in  her  appearance ;  but, 
on  the  contrary,  gentle  in  aspect,  with  an  expression  of 
the  greatest  mildness  and  benevolence.  William  Howitt, 
the  poet,  who  visited  her  after  the  deed  which  made  her 
so  celebrated,  found  her  a  realization  of  his  idea  of 
Jeanie  Deans,  the  amiable  and  true-spirited  heroine  of 
Sir  Walter  Scott's  novel,  who  did  and  suffered  so  much 
for  her  unfortunate  sister.  She  had  the  sweetest  smile, 
he  said,  that  he  had  ever  seen  in  a  person  of  her  station 
and  appearance.  "  You  see,"  says  he,  "  that  she  is  a 
thoroughly  good  creature,  and  that  under  her  modest 
exterior  lies  a  spirit  capable  of  the  most  exalted  devotion, 
a  devotion  so  entire,  that  daring  is  not  so  much  a  quality 
of  her  nature,  as  that  the  most  perfect  sympathy  with 
suffering  or  endangered  humanity  swallows  up  and 
annihilates  everything  like  fear  or  self-consideration; 
puts  out,  in  fact,  every  sentiment  but  itself." 
17 


194 


HUMANITY. 


The  following  is  the  account  of  the  event  which  with- 
drew the  name  of  Grace  Darling  from  its  hitherto  hum- 
ble obscurity,  and  called  into  action  the  whole  energies 
of  her  mind  and  heart,  in  one  momentary  impulse  of 
feeling :  — 

"  The  Forfarskire  steamer,  a  vessel  of  about  300  tons 
burden,  under  the  command  of  Mr.  John  Humble,  for- 
merly master  of  the  Neptune,  sailed  from  Hull,  on  her 
voyage  to  Dundee,  on  the  evening  of  Wednesday,  the 
5th  of  September,  1838,  about  half-past  six  o'clock,  with 
a  valuable  cargo  of  bale  goods  and  sheet-iron ;  and 
having  on  board  about  twenty-two  cabin  and  nineteen 
steerage  passengers,  as  nearly  as  could  be  ascertained ; 
Captain  Humble  and  his  wife,  ten  seamen,  four  firemen, 
two  engineers,  two  coal-trimmers,  and  two  stewards;  in 
all,  sixty-three  persons. 

"  The  Forfarshire  was  only  two  years  old,  but  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  her  boilers  were  in  a  culpable  state 
of  disrepair.  Previous  to  leaving  Hull,  the  boilers  had 
been  examined,  and  a  small  leak  closed  up ;  but  when 
off  Flamborough  Head,  the  leakage  reappeared,  and  con- 
tinued for  about  six  hours  ;  not,  however,  to  much  extent, 
as  the  pumps  were  able  to  keep  the  vessel  dry.  In  the 
subsequent  examinations,  the  engine-man.  Allen  Stewart, 
stated  his  opinion,  that  he  had  frequently  seen  the  boiler 
as  bad  as  it  was  on  this  occasion.  The  fireman,  Daniel 
Donovan,  however,  represented  the  leakage  as  consider- 
able ;  so  much  so,  that  two  of  the  fires  were  extinguished, 
but  they  were  relighted  after  the  boilers  had  been  partially 
repaired.  The  progress  of  the  vessel  was,  of  course, 
retarded,  and  three  steam  vessels  passed  her  before  she 
had  proceeded  far.  The  unusual  bustle  on  board  the 
Forfarshire,  in  consequence  of  the  state  of  the  boilers, 


HUMANITY.  195 

attracted  the  notice  of  several  of  the  passengers ;  and 
Mrs.  Dawson,  a  steerage  passenger,  who  was  one  of  the 
survivors,  stated,  that  even  before  the  vessel  left  Hull,  so 
strong  was  her  impression,  from  indications  on  board, 
that  all  was  not  right,  that  if  her  husband,  who  is  a 
glassman,  had  come  down  to  the  packet  in  time,  she 
would  have  returned  with  him  on  shore. 

"  In  this  inefficient  state,  the  vessel  proceeded  on  her 
voyage,  and  passed  through  the  '  Fairway,'  between  the 
Fame  Islands  and  the  land,  about  six  o'clock  on  Thurs- 
day evening.  She  entered  Berwick  Bay  about  eight 
o'clock  the  same  evening,  the  sea  running  high,  and  the 
wind  blowing  strong  from  the  north.  From  the  motion 
of  the  vessel,  the  leak  increased  to  such  a  degree  that 
the  firemen  could  not  keep  the  fires  burning.  Two  men 
were  then  employed  to  pump  water  into  the  boilers,  but 
it  escaped  through  the  leak  as  fast  as  they  pumped  it  in. 
About  ten  o'clock,  she  bore  up  off  St.  Abb's  Head,  the 
storm  still  raging  with  unabated  fury.  The  engines,  soon 
after,  became  entirely  useless,  and  the  engine-man 
reported  that  they  would  not  work.  There  being  great 
danger  of  drifting  ashore,  the  sails  were  hoisted  fore  and 
aft,  and  the  vessel  got  about,  in  order  to  get  her  before 
the  wind  and  keep  her  off  the  land.  No  attempt  was 
made  to  anchor.  The  vessel  soon  became  unmanage- 
able, and  the  tide  setting  strong  to  the  south,  she  pro- 
ceeded in  that  direction.  It  rained  heavily  during  the 
whole  time,  and  the  fog  was  so  dense  that  it  became 
impossible  to  tell  the  situation  of  the  vessel.  At  length, 
breakers  were  discovered  close  to  leeward;  and  the 
Fame  Lights,  which  about  the  same  period  became  visi- 
ble, left  no  doubt  as  to  the  imminent  peril  of  all  on  board. 
Captain  Humble  vaicly  attempted  to  avert  the  catastro- 


196  H  JMANTTT. 

phe  by  running  the  vessel  between  the  islands  and  the 
mainland;  she  would  not  answer  the  helm,  and  was 
impelled  to  and  fro  by  a  furious  sea.  Between  three  and 
four  o'clock,  she  struck,  with  her  bows  foremost,  on  the 
rock,  the  ruggedness  of  which  is  such,  that  at  periods 
when  it  is  dry,  it  is  scarcely  possible  for  a  person  to  stand 
erect  upon  it ;  and  the  edge  which  met  the  Forfar shire's 
timbers  descends  sheer  down  a  hundred  fathoms  deep, 
or  more. 

"  At  this  juncture,  a  part  of  the  crew,  intent  only  on 
self-preservation,  lowered  the  larboard-quarter  boat  down, 
and  left  the  ship.  Amongst  them  was  Mr.  Ruthven 
Ritchie,  of  Hill  of  Ruthven,  in  Perthshire,  who  had  been 
roused  from  bed,  and  had  only  time  to  put  on  his  trow- 
sers,  when,  rushing  upon  deck,  he  saw  and  took  advan- 
tage of  this  opportunity  of  escape,  by  flinging  himself 
into  the  boat.  His  uncle  and  aunt,  attempting  to  follow 
his  example,  fell  into  the  sea,  and  perished  in  his  sight. 
The  scene  on  board  was  of  the  most  awful  kind. 
Several  females  were  uttering  cries  of  anguish  and 
despair;  and  amongst  them  stood  the  bewildered 
master,  whose  wife,  clinging  to  him,  franticly  besought 
the  protection  which  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  give. 
Very  soon  after  the  first  shock,  a  powerful  wave  struck 
the  vessel  on  the  quarter,  and  raising  her  off  the  rock, 
allowed  her  immediately  after  to  fall  violently  down  upon 
it,  the  sharp  edge  striking  her  about  midships.  She 
was  by  this  fairly  broken  in  two  pieces ;  and  the  after 
part,  containing  the  cabin,  with  many  passengers,  was 
instantly  carried  off,  through  a  tremendous  current, 
called  the  Pifa  Gut,  which  is  considered  dangerous  even 
in  good  weather,  while  the  fore  part  remained  on  the 
rock.  The  captain  and  his  wife  seem  to  have  been 


HUMANITY.  19" 

imongst  those  who  perished  in  the  hinder  part  of  the 
vessel. 

"  At  the  moment  when  the  boat  parted,  about  eight  or 
nine  of  the  passengers  betook  themselves  to  the  windlass, 
in  the  fore  part  of  the  vessel,  which  they  conceived  to  be 
the  safest  place.  Here,  also,  a  few  sailors  took  their 
station,  although  despairing  of  relief.  In  the  fore  cabin, 
exposed  to  the  intrusion  of  the  waves,  was  Sarah 
Dawson,  the  wife  of  a  weaver,  with  two  children. 
When  relief  came,  life  was  found  trembling  in  the 
bosom  of  this  poor  woman,  but  her  two  children  lay 
stiffened  corpses  in  her  arms. 

"  The  sufferers,  nine  in  number,  (five  of  the  crew  and 
four  passengers,)  remained  in  their  dreadful  situation  till 
day-break,  exposed  to  the  buffetting  of  the  waves,  amidst 
darkness,  and  fearful  that  every  rising  surge  would 
sweep  the  fragment  of  wreck  on  which  they  stood  into 
the  deep.  Such  was  their  situation,  when,  as  day  broke 
on  the  morning  of  the  7th,  they  were  descried  from  the 
Longstone,  by  the  Darlings,  at  nearly  a  mile's  distance. 
A  mist  hovered  over  the  island;  and  though  the  wind 
had  somewhat  abated  its  violence,  the  sea,  which  even  in 
the  calmest  weather  is  never  at  rest  amongst  the  gorges 
between  these  iron  pinnacles,  still  raged  fearfully.  At 
the  lighthouse  there  were  only  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Darling 
and  their  heroic  daughter.  The  boisterous  state  of  the 
sea  is  sufficiently  attested  by  the  fact,  that,  at  a  later 
period  in  the  day,  a  reward  of  51.,  offered  by  Mr. 
Smeddle,  the  steward  of  Bamborough  Castle,  could 
scarcely  induce  a  party  of  fishermen  to  venture  off"  from 
the  mainland. 

"  To  have  braved  the  perils  of  that  terrible  passage, 
tnen,  would  have  done  the  highest  honor  to  the  well- 
17* 


198  HUMANITY. 

tried  nerves  of  even  the  stoutest  of  the  male  sex ;  out 
what  shall  be  said  of  the  errand  of  mercy  being  under- 
taken and  accomplished  mainly  through  the  strength  of 
a  female  heart  and  arm  ?  Through  the  dim  mist,  with 
the  aid  of  the  glass,  the  figures  of  the  sufferers  were 
seen  clinging  to  the  wreck.  But  who  could  dare  to 
tempt  the  raging  abyss  that  intervened,  in  the  hope  of 
succoring  them?  Mr.  Darling,  it  is  said,  shrank  from 
the  attempt  —  not  so  his  daughter.  At  her  solicitation, 
the  boat  was  launched :  with  the  assistance  of  her 
mother,  the  father  and  daughter  entered  it,  each  taking 
an  oar.  It  is  worthy  of  being  noticed,  that  Grace  never 
had  occasion  to  assist  in  the  boat  previous  to  the  wreck 
of  the  Forfarshire,  others  of  the  family  being  always  at 
hand. 

"  In  estimating  the  danger  which  the  heroic  adven- 
turers encountered,  there  is  one  circumstance  which 
ought  not  to  be  forgotten.  Had  it  not  been  ebb-tide,  the 
boat  could  not  have  passed  between  the  islands ;  and 
Darling  and  his  daughter  knew  that  the  tide  would  be 
flowing  on  their  return,  when  their  united  strength 
would  have  been  utterly  insHfficient  to  pull  the  boat  back 
to  the  lighthouse  island ;  so  that,  had  they  not  got  the 
assistance  of  the  survivors  in  rowing  back  again,  they 
themselves  would  have  been  compelled  to  remain  on  the 
rock  beside  the  wreck,  until  the  tide  again  ebbed. 

"  It  could  only  have  been  by  the  exertion  of  great 
muscular  power,  as  well  as  of  determined  courage,  that 
the  father  and  daughter  carried  the  boat  up  to  the  rock ; 
and  when  there,  a  danger  —  greater  even  than  that  which 
they  had  encountered  in  approaching  it  —  arose  from  the 
difficulty  of  steadying  the  boat,  and  preventing  its  being 
destroyed  on  those  sharp  ridges  by  the  ever-restless 


HUMANITY.  19& 

chafing  and  heaving  of  the  billows.  However,  the  nine 
sufferers  were  safely  rescued.  The  deep  sense  which 
one  of  the  poor  fellows  entertained  of  the  generous  con- 
duct of  Darling  and  his  daughter,  was  testified  by  hi? 
eyes  filling  with  tears  when  he  described  it.  The  thrill 
of  delight  which  he  experienced  when  the  boat  was 
observed  approaching  the  rock,  was  converted  into  a 
feeling  of  amazement,  which  he  could  not  find  language 
to  express,  when  he  became  aware  of  the  fact  that  one 
of  their  deliverers  was  a  female ! 

"  The  sufferers  were  conveyed,  at  once,  to  the  light- 
house, which  was  in  fact  their  only  place  of  refuge  at 
the  time ;  and,  owing  to  the  violent  seas  that  continued 
to  prevail  among  the  islands,  they  were  obliged  to 
remain  there  from  Friday  morning  till  Sunday.  A 
boat's  crew,  that  came  off  to  their  relief  from  North 
Sunderland,  were  also  obliged  to  remain.  This  made  a 
party  of  nearly  twenty  persons  at  the  lighthouse,  in  addi- 
tion to  its  usual  inmates ;  and  such  an  unprepared  for 
accession  could  not  fail  to  occasion  considerable  inconve- 
nience. Grace  gave  up  her  bed  to  poor  Mrs.  Dawson, 
whose  sufferings,  both  mental  and  bodily,  were  intense, 
and  contented  herself  with  lying  down  on  a  table.  The 
other  sufferers  were  accommodated  with  the  best  substi- 
tutes for  beds  which  could  be  provided,  and  the  boat's 
crew  slept  on  the  floor  around  the  fire. 

"  The  names  of  the  individuals  saved  from  the  wreck 
of  the  Forfarshire,  by  Darling  and  his  daughter,  were  — 
John  Kidd,  fireman,  of  Dundee ;  Jonathan  Ticket,  cook, 
of  Hull;  John  Macqueen,  coal-trimmer,  Dundee;  John 
Tullock,  carpenter,  Dundee;  and  John  Nicholson,  fire- 
man, Dundee,  of  the  crew :  D.  Donovan,  fireman  and 
free  passenger,  of  Dundee ;  James  Keeley,  weaver, 


200  HUMANITY. 

Dundee ;  Thomas  Buchanan,  baker,  Dundee ;  and  Mrs. 
Dawson,  oound  to  Dundee,  passengers.  The  party  in 
the  boat,  also  nine  in  number,  were  picked  up  next 
morning  oy  a  Montrose  sloop,  and  carried  into  Shields. 
The  entire  number  was  therefore  eighteen,  of  whom 
thirteen  belonged  to  the  vessel,  and  five  were  passengers. 
The  remainder,  including  the  captain  and  his  wife,  Mr. 
Bell,  factor  to  the  Earl  of  Kinnoul,  the  Rev.  John  Robb, 
Dunkeld,  and  some  ladies  of  a  respectable  rank  in 
society,  perished. 

"  The  subsequent  events  of  Grace  Darling's  life  are 
soon  told.  The  deed  she  had  done  may  be  said  to  have 
wafted  her  name  over  all  Europe.  Immediately  on  the 
circumstances  being  made  known  through  the  news- 
papers, that  lonely  lighthouse  became  the  centre  of 
attraction  to  curious  and  sympathizing  thousands,  includ- 
ing many  of  the  wealthy  and  the  great,  who,  in  most 
instances,  testified  by  substantial  tokens  the  feelings  with 
which  they  regarded  the  young  heroine.  The  Duke 
and  Duchess  of  Northumberland  invited  her  and  her 
father  over  to  Alnwick  Castle,  and  presented  her  with  a 
gold  watch,  which  she  always  afterwards  wore  when 
visitors  came. 

"  The  Humane  Society  sent  her  a  most  flattering  vote 
of  thanks  ;  the  president  presented  her  with  a  handsome 
silver  tea-pot ;  and  she  received  almost  innumerable  testi- 
monials, of  greater  or  less  value,  from  admiring  stran- 
gers. A  public  subscription  was  raised,  with  a  view  of 
rewarding  her  for  her  bravery  and  humanity ;  her  name 
was  echoed  with  applause  amongst  all  ranks ;  portraits 
of  her  were  eagerly  sought  for  :  and  to  such  a  pitch  did 
the  enthusiasm  reach,  that  a  large  nightly  sum  was 
offered  her  by  jie  proprietors  of  one  or  more  of  the 


HUMANITY. 

metropolitan  theatres,  and  other  places  of  amusement,  on 
condition  that  she  would  merely  sit  in  a  boat,  for  a  brief 
space,  during  the  performance  of  a  piece  whose  chief 
attraction  she  was  to  be.  All  such  offers  were,  however, 
promptly  and  steadily  refused.  It  is,  indeed,  gratifying 
to  state,  that,  amidst  all  this  tumult  of  applause,  Grace 
Darling  never  for  a  moment  forgot  the  modest  dignity  of 
conduct  which  became  her  sex  and  station.  The  flatter- 
ing testimonials  of  all  kinds  which  were  showered  upon 
her  never  produced  in  her  mind  any  feeling  but  a  sense 
of  wonder  and  grateful  pleasure.  She  continued,  not- 
withstanding the  improvement  of  her  circumstances,  to 
reside  at  the  Longstone  lighthouse  with  her  father  and 
mother,  finding  in  her  limited  sphere  of  domestic  duty  on 
that  sea-girt  islet  a  more  honorable  and  more  rational 
enjoyment  than  could  be  found  in  the  crowded  haunts  of 
the  mainland ;  and  thus  affording,  by  her  conduct,  the 
best  proof  that  the  liberality  of  the  public  had  not  been 
unworthily  bestowed." 

William  Howitt  gives  the  following  account  of  his 
interview  with  Grace  Darling :  "  When  I  went  she  was 
not  visible,  and  I  was  afraid  I  should  not  have  got  to  see 
her,  as  her  father  said  she  very  much  disliked  meeting 
strangers  that  she  thought  came  to  stare  at  her;  but 
when  the  old  man  and  I  had  had  a  little  conversation,  he 
went  up  to  her  room,  and  soon  came  down  with  a  smile, 
saying  she  would  be  with  us  soon.  So,  when  we  had 
been  up  to  the  top  lighthouse,  and  had  seen  its  machinery 
— had  taken  a  good  look  out  at  the  distant  shore  — and 
Darling  had  pointed  out  the  spot  of  the  wreck,  and  the 
way  they  took  to  bring  the  people  off,  we  went  down, 
and  found  Grace  sitting  at  her  sewing,  very  neatly  but 
very  simply  dressed,  in  a  plain  sort  of  striped  printed 


HUMANITY. 

gown,  with  her  watch-seal  just  seen  at  her  side,  and  her 
hair  neatly  braided — just,  in  fact,  as  such  girls  are 
dressed,  only  not  quite  so  smart  as  they  often  are.  She 
rose  very  modestly,  and  with  a  pleasant  smile  said,  '  How 
do  you  do,  sir  ? '  Her  figure  is  by  no  means  striking ; 
quite  the  contrary ;  but  her  face  is  full  of  sense,  modesty, 
and  genuine  goodness ;  and  that  is  just  the  character  she 
bears.  Her  prudence  delights  one.  We  are  charmed 
that  she  should  so  well  have  supported  the  brilliancy  of 
her  humane  deed.  It  is  confirmative  of  the  notion,  that 
such  actions  must  spring  from  genuine  heart  and  mind." 
It  is  painful,  indeed,  to  reflect  that  this  noble-hearted 
girl  should  have  been  snatched  away  from  the  world  at 
the  early  age  of  twenty-six;  she  fell  a  victim  to  con- 
sumption. Her  health  appearing  delicate  towards  the 
end  of  the  year  1841,  she  was,  by  the  recommendation 
of  her  medical  attendant,  removed  from  the  Longstone 
lighthouse  to  Bamborough,  where  she  remained  for  a 
short  time  under  the  care  of  Mr.  Fender,  surgeon. 
Finding  herself  no  better,  she  desired  to  be  removed  to 
Wooler,  for  change  of  air.  Her  wish  was  complied  with; 
but  she  found  no  relief;  and  at  the  request  of  her  father, 
she  met  him  at  Alnwick,  with  a  view  to  proceed  to  New- 
castle, for  further  medical  advice.  The  Duchess  of 
Northumberland,  having  heard  of  the  arrival  of  the 
heroine  of  the  Longstone  at  Alnwick,  immediately  pro- 
cured for  her  a  comfortable  lodging  in  an  airy  part  of  the 
town,  supplied  her  with  everything  requisite,  and  sent 
her  own  physician  to  give  her  the  benefit  of  his  medical 
advice.  All,  however,  was  of  no  avail.  Her  father 
anxiously  desiring  that  she  should  return  amongst  her 
family,  she  was  accordingly  removed  once  more  to  her 
sist°r's  hoMse  at  Bamborough,  where  she  arrived  only 


HUMAMTY.  205 

ten  days  be/ore  her  decease.  On  the  day  of  her  removal 
from  Alnwick,  the  Duchess  of  Northumberland,  without 
a  single  attendant,  and  attired  in  the  most  homely  man- 
ner, repaired  to  Grace  Darling's  lodgings,  for  the  purpose 
of  taking  her  last  farewell,  which  she  did  with  the  most 
unaffected  kindness.  For  some  time  previous  to  her 
death,  she  was  perfectly  aware  that  her  latter  end  was 
approaching ;  but  this  gave  her  no  uneasiness.  She  was 
never  heard  to  utter  a  complaint  during  her  illness,  but 
exhibited  the  utmost  Christian  resignation  throughout. 

"  Shortly  before  her  death,  she  expressed  a  wish  to 
see  as  many  of  her  relations  as  the  peculiar  nature  of 
their  employments  would  admit  of,  and,  with  surprising 
fortitude  and  self-command,  she  delivered  to  each  of 
them  some  token  of  remembrance.  .  This  done,  she 
calmly  awaited  the  approach  of  death ;  and  finally,  on 
the  20th  of  October,  1842,  resigned  her  spirit  without  a 
murmur.  The  funeral  took  place  at  Bamborough  on  the 
following  Monday,  and  was  very  numerously  attended. 
The  pall  was  borne  by  William  Barnfather,  Esq.,  from 
Alnwick  Castle,  Robert  Smeddle,  Esq.,  of  Bamborough 
Castle,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Mitford  Taylor,  of  North  Sunder- 
and,  and  Mr.  Fender,  surgeon,  Bamborough.  Ten  of 
the  immediate  relatives  of  the  deceased,  including  her 
father,  and  brother  William,  as  mourners,  followed  by 
Mr.  Evans,  officer  of  customs,  Bamborough,  and  a  young 
man  from  Durham,  who  is  said  to  have  cherished  an 
ardent  affection  for  the  deceased,  formed  the  funeral 
procession,  which  was  accompanied  by  an  immense  con- 
course of  persons  of  all  ages  and  grades  in  society,  many 
of  whom  seemed  deeply  affected 

"  It  may  be  here  mentioned,  as  illustrative  of  Grace 
Darling's  character,  that  she  received  numerous  offers  of 


204  HUMANITY. 

marriage,  many  of  which  might  have  been  considered 
advantageous,  but  all  of  which  she  declined,  usually 
alleging  her  desire  never  to  change  her  condition  whilst 
her  parents  were  alive.  It  is  said,  that,  on  the  occasion 
of  her  being  introduced  to  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of 
Northumberland,  his  grace  told  her  that  he  hoped  she 
tvould  be  careful  in  such  matters,  as  there  would  be  sure 
to  be  designs  upon  her  money;  and  she  told  him  she 
would  not  marry  without  his  approbation. 

"  The  proceeds  of  the  public  subscription  (about  700Z.) 
were  funded  for  Miss  Darling's  use,  under  the  trustee- 
ship of  the  Duke  of  Northumberland  and  Mr.  Archdeacon 
Thorpe.  This  sum  is  understood  to  have  been  inherited 
by  her  father.  Some  other  sums,  which  had  been 
directly  sent  to  her  as  tributes  to  her  worth,  were  divided 
by  this  amiable  young  woman  amongst  her  brothers  and 
listers." 


NTEGRITY. 


UK     LONGUEVILLE. A     MOTHER     ASKS     THE    LIFB    OF    HJS» 

SON. MRS.  BENDYSH. HONEST    POVERTY. FEMALE     INTEGRI- 
TY.  SUZETTE.  WIDOW     OF     A     STOCK-BROKER.  MARGARET 

BOUDET. 


"  Virtne  's  like  gold  :  —  the  ore 's  alloyed  by  earth, 
Trouble,  like  fire,  refines  the  mass  to  birth  ; 
Tortured  the  more,  the  metal  purer  grows, 
And  seven  times  tried,  with  new  effulgence  glows! 
Exults  superior  to  the  searching  flame, 
And  rises  from  affliction  into  fame  !"  —  BOYSE. 

"THE  term  integrity  can  only  be  applied  to  those 
pei sons  who,  accustomed  to  practise  every  part  of  social 
justice,  are  conscientiously  accurate  in  all  their  dealings, 
faithful  to  every  trust,  tenacious  of  every  promise,  dis- 
daining to  dissemble  or  prevaricate  ;  and  who  would 
regard  every  act  of  injustice  as  a  meanness  to  which 
they  would  scorn  to  stoop." 


THE   DUCHESS  DE   LONGUEVILLE. 

"  High  o'er  the  eastern  steep  the  sun  is  beaming, 
And  darkness  flies  with  her  deceitful  shadows  ;  — 
So  truth  prevails  o'er  falsehood."  —  Old  Play. 

THE  Duchess  de  Longueville  afforded  a  powerful 
instance  of  uprightness  of  conduct.  Not  being  able  to 
obtain  a  favor  for  one  of  her  people  from  the  king,  the 
duchess  was  so  much  hurt  that  she  suffered  some  very 
indiscreet  words  to  escape  her,  which  were  reported  by  a 
gentleman  present  to  his  Majesty,  and  from  him  to  her 
brother.  The  latter  declared  that  it  could  not  be  true, 
18 


206  INTEGRITY. 

for  he  would  not  believe  his  sister  had  lost  her  senses. 
"  I  will  believe  her,  if  she  herself  denies  it,"  said  the  king. 

The  prince  went  to  his  sister,  and  she  concealed 
nothing  from  him.  In  vain  he  tried,  during  a  whole 
afternoon,  to  persuade  her  that  in  this  instance  sincerity 
would  be  folly :  that  in  justifying  her  to  the  king,  he 
believed  he  had  spoken  truth,  and  that  it  would  be  even 
more  grateful  to  his  Majesty  for  her  to  deny  than  own  her 
fault.  "  Do  you  wish  me  to  repair  it,"  said  she,  "  by  a 
greater,  not  only  towards  God,  but  towards  the  king? 
I  cannot  lie  to  him,  when  he  has  the  generosity  to  put 
faith  in  me,  and  believe  me  on  my  word.  The  man  who 
has  betrayed  me  is  much  to  blame,  but,  after  all,  I  must 
not  let  him  pass  for  a  slanderer,  which  he  is  not." 

She  went  the  next  day  to  court,  and  having  obtained 
a  private  audience  of  his  Majesty,  threw  herself  at  his 
feet,  and  begged  pardon  for  the  indiscreet  words  which 
had  escaped  her,  which  her  brother  had  not  believed  her 
capable  of,  saying  that  she  would  rather  avow  her  fault 
than  be  justified  at  the  expense  of  others.  The  king 
pardoned  her  immediately,  and  ever  after  treated  her 
with  more  particular  kindness  than  before. 

A  MOTHER  ASKS  THE   LIFE   OF  HER  SON. 

"  And  they  must  perish  frt>m  her,  one  by  one, 
And  her  heart  bleed  with  each,  till  all  are  gone ; 
This  is  the  woe  of  woes,  the  sting  of  fate, 
To  see  our  little  world  grow  desolate  ! 
Those  few  on  whom  the  very  soul  reclined 
Sink  from  the  sight,  —  and  feel  me  stay  behind  — 
This,  this  is  misery  !  —  the  headsman's  steel 
Strikes,  and  we  perish  —  but  we  cease  to  feel." 

Paris,  a  Poem. 

WHEN  the  virtuous  and  venerable  Barneveldt,  under 
ihe  mock  form  of  a  trial  and  of  a  legal  conviction,  fell  a 


INTEGRITY.  201 

sacrifice  to  the  political  intrigues  of  Maurice,  Prince  of 
Orange  the  latter  declared  that  a  pardon  should  be 
granted  him,  if  requested  by  his  family  :  but  neither  he 
nor  they  would  condescend  to  an  act  that  would  imply 
his  guilt ;  and  he  was  executed.  Some  time  after,  a 
real  conspiracy  against  the  life  of  Maurice  was  entered 
into  by  two  sons  of  this  excellent  man,  one  of  whom, 
escaped,  but  the  other  being  taken,  was  condemned  to 
die.  On  this  occasion,  his  high-minded  mother  threw 
herself  at  the  feet  of  Maurice  to  beg  his  life  :  when  the 
prince  expressed  his  surprise  that  she  would  stoop  to 
such  a  request  for  her  son,  after  having  refused  to  ask 
the  pardon  of  her  husband.  "  I  did  not  ask  pardon  for 
my  husband,  because  he  was  innocent ! "  she  replied,  with 
a  noble  composure  :  "  I  ask  it  for  my  son,  because  he  is 
guilty."  —  Such  is  the  consistent  and  regulated  pride  of 
principle. 


INTEGRITY  OF  MRS.  BENDYSH. 

"  There  is  in  virtue,  for  her  sake  alone, 
What  should  uphold  my  resolution  firm."  — GLOVER. 

MRS.  BENDYSH,  the  grand-daughter  of  Oliver  Cromwell, 
when  a  child  of  only  six  years  of  age,  frequently  sat 
between  his  knees,  when  he  held  his  cabinet  councils, 
and  that  on  the  most  important  affairs.  When  some  of 
the  ministers  objected  to  her  being  present,  the  Protector 
said,  "  There  was  no  secret  he  would  trust  with  any  of 
them,  that  he  could  not  trust  with  that  infant."  To 
prove  that  his  confidence  was  not  mistaken,  he  one  day 
told  her  something  as  in  confidence,  under  the  charge  of 
secrecy,  and  then  urged  her  mother  and  grandmother  to 
ex'ert  it  from  her  by  promises,  caresses,  and  bribes. 


208  INTEGRITY. 

These  failing,  threatening  and  severe  whipping  were 
tried  to  extort  the  secret  from  her ;  but  she  bore  it  all 
with  the  most  dispassionate  firmness,  expressing  her  duty 
to  her  mother,  but  her  still  greater  duty  to  keep  her 
promise  of  secrecy  to  her  grandfather,  and  not  to  betray 
the  confidence  reposed  in  her. 


HONESTY  OF  A  POOR  WIDOW. 

"  Is  this  the  rugged  path,  the  steep  ascent, 
That  virtue  points  to  ?  "  —  COWPER. 

IN  the  year  1776,  a  poor  widow  at  Lisbon  went 
several  times  to  the  ante-chamber  of  the  court,  and 
though  frequently  ordered  to  retire,  she  as  constantly 
returned  the  next  day,  saying,  she  must  speak  to  the 
king.  At  length,  she  one  day  saw  his  Majesty  passing 
by,  when  she  immediately  advanced  towards  him,  pre- 
sented a  casStet  to  him,  and  spoke  as  follows  :  "  Sire, 
behold  what  I  have  discovered  among  the  rubbish  of  some 
of  the  edifices  ruined  by  the  great  earthquake  in  1755.  1 
am  a  poor  widow,  and  have  six  children.  That  casket 
would  relieve  me  from  my  present  distresses ;  but  1 
prefer  my  honor,  with  a  good  conscience,  to  all  the 
treasures  in  the  world.  I  deliver  this  to  your  Majesty,  as 
the  most  proper  person  to  restore  it  to  its  lawful  possessor, 
and  to  recompense  me  for  the  discovery.".  The  king 
immediately  ordered  the  casket  to  be  opened,  and  was 
struck  with  the  beauty  of  the  jewels  which  it  contained  ; 
after  which,  speaking  highly  in  praise  of  the  widow's 
honesty  and  disinterestedness,  he  assured  her  of  his 
protection,  and  ordered  twenty  thousand  piastres  to  be 
immediately  given  to  her.  His  Majesty  further  ordered 
that  proper  search  should  be  made  to  discover  the  rea. 


INTEGRITY.  209 

* 

proprietor ;  and  if  their  researches  should  prove  fruitless, 
that  the  jewels  should  be  sold,  and  the  produce  appro- 
priated to  the  use  of  the  widow  and  her  children. 

EXTRAORDINARY  ADHERENCE  TO  PRINCIPLE. 

"  Heroic  self-denial,  nobler  far 
Than  well  the  achievements  noisy  Fame  reports, 
When  her  shrill  trump  proclaims  the  proud  success 
Which  desolates  the  nations."  — MRS.  HANNAH  MORE. 

• 
ANOTHER  trait  of  faithful  integrity,  still  more  remark 

able  than  the  last,  occurred  in  France,  in  1792. 

A  poor  woman,  with  several  children,  was  made  the 
repository  of  a  large  sum  of  money,  which  she  was  per- 
mitted to  appropriate  to  her  own  use,  if  the  person  who 
placed  it  in  her  hands  died  without  children,  and  in  case 
of  distress  to  take  part  of  it  for  her  relief.  Some  time 
after,  she  was  taken  ill,  and  suffered  under  every  species 
of  want.  She  endured  the  most  extreme  distress,  with- 
out ever  believing  her  sufferings  were  sufficiently  great 
to  allow  of  her  taking  any  of  the  money.  She  was  after- 
wards informed  of  the  death  of  the  proprietor  of  it ;  but 
her  conduct  was  still  the  same,  for  she  did  not  know 
whether  he  had  left  any  children. 

Four  years  passed  on,  and  her  resolution  remained 
unshaken.  "  If  there  are  no  children,"  she  said,  "  there 
may  still  be  heirs ;  and  if  no  heirs,  creditors." 

Meanwhile  infirmities  and  distress  increased  upon  her, 
but  her  greatest  anxiety  was,  lest  she  should  die  without 
giving  the  deposit  to  the  proper  owner.  At  length  she 
heard  that  the  person  who  had  placed  it  in  her  hands  had 
married  in  Prussia,  and  had  left  children.  She  informed 
the  widow  instantly  of  the  deposit,  who  would  gladly 
have  rewarded  her  fidelity,  but  she  would  not  accept  any 
18* 


210  INTEGRITY. 

• 

part  of  the  money.  "  All  that  I  desire,"  said  this  pool 
woman,  "  is,  that  you  will  preserve  the  remembrance  o! 
one  who  had  a  most  profound  respect  for  your  husband, 
and  who  dies  happy  to  have  rendered  a  service  to  his 
family." 

THE   REWARD  OF  UPRIGHT  CONDUCT. 
"  Oft  from  apparent  ills  our  blessings  rise."  —  BEATTIK. 

THE  following  story,  which  was  published  in  one  of 
he  periodical  journals  some  time  since,  is  too  interesting 
lo  be  omitted. 

"  An  old  chiffbnnier  (or  rag-picker)  died  in  Paris,  in  a 
state  of  the  most  abject  poverty. 

"  His  only  relation  was  a  niece,  who  lived  as  servant 
with  a  green-grocer.  This  girl  always  assisted  her  uncle 
as  far  as  her  slender  means  would  permit.  When  she 
learnt  of  his  death,  which  took  place  suddenly,  she  was 
upon  the  point  of  marriage  with  a  journeyman  baker,  to 
whom  she  had  been  long  attached.  The  nuptial  day  was 
fixed,  but  Suzette  had  not  yet  bought  her  wedding  clothes. 
She  hastened  to  tell  her  lover  that  their  marriage  must 
be  deferred,  as  she  wanted  the  price  of  her  bridal  finery 
to  lay  her  uncle  decently  in  the  grave.  Her  mistress 
ridiculed  the  idea,  and  exhorted  her  to  leave  the  old  man 
to  be  buried  by  charity.  Suzette  refused:  The  conse- 
quence was  a  quarrel,  in  which  the  young  woman  lost  at 
once  her  place  and  her  lover,  who  sided  with  her  mistress. 
She  hastened  to  the  miserable  garret  where  her  uncle 
had  expired,  and  by  the  sacrifice  not  only  of  her  wedding 
attire,  but  of  nearly  all  the  rest  of  her  slender  wardrobe, 
she  had  the  old  man  decently  interred.  Her  pious  task 
fulfilled,  she  sat  alone  in  her  uncle's  room,  weeping  bitterly, 


INTEGRITY.  211 

when  the  master  of  her  faithless  lover,  a  young,  good- 
looking  man,  entered.  '  So,  my  good  Suzette,  I  find  yofl 
have  lost  your  place  ! '  cried  he ;  'I  am  come  to  offer  you 
one  for  life  —  will  you  marry  me  ? '  '  I,  sir  ?  —  you  are  jok- 
ing.' '  No,  faith,  I  want  a  wife,  and  I  am  sure  I  can't  find 
a  better.'  '  But  everybody  will  laugh  at  you  for  marrying 
a  poor  girl  like  me.'  '  0  !  if  that  is  your  only  objection, 
we  shall  soon  get  over  it :  come,  come  along ;  my  mother 
is  prepared  to  receive  you.'  Suzette  hesitated  no  longer  ; 
but  she  wished  to  take  with  her  a  memorial  of  her 
deceased  uncle  :  it  was  a  cat  that  he  had  had  for  many 
years.  The  old  man  was  so  fond  of  the  animal  that  he 
was  determined  even  her  death  should  not  separate  them, 
for  he  had  had  her  stuffed  and  placed  upon  the  tester  of 
his  bed.  As  Suzette  took  puss  down,  she  uttered  an 
exclamation  of  surprise  at  finding  her  so  heavy.  The 
lover  hastened  to  open  the  animal,  when  out  fell  a  shower 
of  gold.  There  were  a  thousand  louis  concealed  in  the 
body  of  the  cat ;  and  this  sum,  which  the  old  miser  had 
starved  himself  to  amass,  became  the  just  reward  of  the 
worthy  girl  and  her  disinterested  lover." 

REMARKABLE  EXAMPLE  OF  INTEGRITY. 
"  Thou  art  not  for  the  fashion  of  these  times."  —  SHAKSPEARE. 

THE  following  example  may  justly  be  considered  as 
unparalleled  in  the  sporting  circles. 

A  stock-broker,  shortly  before  his  death,  had  laid  a 
wager  on  parole  with  a  rich  capitalist  at  Paris ;  about 
two  months  after  his  decease,  the  latter  made  his  appear- 
ance at  the  residence  of  the  widow,  and  informed  her 
that  her  late  husband  had  lost  a  bet  of  16,000  francs 
Upon  his  proceeding  to  inquire  whether  she  could  rely 


212  INTEGRITY. 

solely  on  her  informant's  assurance  that  the  transaction 
had  taken  place,  and  fulfil  the  engagement  contracted  by 
the  deceased  —  the  widow,  without  hesitation,  produced 
a  pocket-book  from  her  secretary,  and  proceeded  to  count 
bank  notes  to  the  amount  of  16,000  francs  ;  when  she  did 
so,  however,  she  was  immediately  interrupted  by  the 
capitalist ;  "  Madame,"  said  he,  "  as  you  give  such  con- 
vincing proof  that  you  consider  the  wager  binding,  /have 
to  pay  you  16,000  francs.  Here  is  the  sum,  for  /  am  the 
loser,  and  not  your  late  husband." 

HOW  TO  GET  RICH. 

"  Yet  truest  riches,  would  mankind  their  breasts 
Bend  to  the  precept,  in  a  little  lie, 
With  mind  well  poised  ;  here  want  can  never  come." 

THE  Morning  Chronicle  of  July  3d,  1841,  copied  the 
following  article  from  Galignani's  Messenger ;  it  is  of 
too  singular  an  interest  to  be  omitted  in  this  collection  : 

"  Margaret  Boudet,  a  single  woman,  seventy-six  years 
of  age,  living  in  the  Rue  Contrescarpe,  was  taken  ill 
about  a  fortnight  ago,  and  was  sedulously  attended  by 
two  of  her  nieces.  The  morning  before  last,  she  per- 
ceived death  approaching,  and  desired  that  a  notary 
should  be  sent  for  to  make  her  will.  As  she  had  always 
lived  as  if  she  were  in  a  state  of  poverty,  her  two  attend- 
ants, believing  that  she  was  delirious,  hesitated,  and 
reminded  her  that  this  would  create  an  expense,  which 
they  had  no  means  of  paying.  The  dying  woman  replied 
that  she  knew  what  she  was  about,  and  insisted  on  the 
man  of  the  law  being  brought.  A  notary  and  a  sufficient 
number  of  witnesses  being  collected,  she  commenced  by 
dictating  legacies  of  100,000  francs  to  each  of  her  nieces 
then  present,  who,  on  hearing  these  bequests,  were  only 


INTEGRITY.  213 

the  more  confirmed  in  their  notion  of  the  weakness  of 
their  aunt's  intellect ;  nor  were  their  convictions  lessened 
when  she  went  on  making  further  dispositions  of  property 
to  an  amount  in  the  whole  of  500,000  francs.  Their 
scepticism,  however,  was  somewhat  removed,  when  she 
added  the  following  account  of  herself  and  her  property  : 
'  At  the  early  age  of  thirteen  I  began  to  earn  money.  I 
never  have  had  any  useless  expenses,  and  during  the 
sixty-three  years  since  elapsed,  have  never  passed  a  day 
without  laying  by  something.  Here  are  my  titles  and 
documents,'  taking  from  under  her  bolster  an  old  port- 
folio filled  with  papers,  which  she  placed  in  the  hands 
of  the  notary.  '  You  will  find  that  I  have  23,000  francs 
a  year  in  the  public  funds,  two  houses  in  the  Rue  St. 
Jaques,  one  on  the  Boulevard  du  Temple,  and  one  on 
the  Quai  St.  Paul.  I  recommend  my  tenants  to  your 
care,  for  they  are  all  honest  people,  and  pay  their  rents 
regularly.'  These  were  her  last  words,  for  she  expired 
almost  immediately  after.  Yesterday  her  body  was  lying 
in  a  coffin,  covered  with  a  rich  pall,  and  surrounded  by 
one  hundred  and  fifty  lighted  tapers,  in  the  narrow  alley 
leading  to  the  house  in  which  she  lodged,  and  thence 
was  borne  away  for  interment  by  a  splendid  hearse 
followed  by  ten  mourning  coaches." 


BENEVOLENCE. 


CLIIABETHA   OF    HUNGARY. ANHB   BOLBYN. LADY    BCRLEIJH. — 

LADY  APSLEY. ANNE  CLIFFORD. NELL  9WYNNB. —  MRS.  ROWE 

MRS.     PORTER. RUSSIAN     PRINCESS. PRINCESS     OF     WALES. 

MRS.    HOWARD. EMPRESS    CATHERINE     THE     SECOND. LADY 

MILLAR. THE    LOTTERY   TICKET. LADY    SHEFFIELD. MARGA 

RET     DESMOULINS. LA    BLONDE. COUNTESS   OF     WARWICK. 

LADIES      OF     GERMANY. MRS.     HANNAH     MORE. MRS.     TRY. — 

PRINCESS     CHARLOTTE. EMPRESS   JOSEPHINE. WOMEN    OF    ALL 

COUNTRIES. 


"  Behold  a  record  which  together  binds 
Fast  deeds  and  offices  of  charity." — WORDSWORTH. 

"  Grasp  the  whole  worlds  of  reason,  life,  and  sense, 
In  one  close  system  of  benevolence."  —  POPE. 

"  THE  love  of  benevolence,  in  its  utmost  extent, 
embraces  all  beings  capable  of  enjoying  any  portion  of 
good ;  and  thus  it  becomes  universal  benevolence ; 
which  manifests  itself  by  being  pleased  with  the  share 
of  good  every  creature  enjoys ;  in  a  disposition  to 
increase  it ;  in  feeling  an  uneasiness  at  their  sufferings ; 
and  in  the  abhorrence  of  cruelty,  under  every  disguise  or 
pretext." 

ELIZABETHA,  PRINCESS    OF  HUNGARY. 
"  Turned  ever  virtue  from  another's  woe  ?  " 

ELIZABETHA  was  the  daughter  of  the  King  of  Hun- 
gary, and  married  to  Lewis,  the  Landegrave  of  Thurin- 


BENEVOLENCE.  215 

gia;  yet  in  the  midst  of  riches  and  abundance  she 
affected  poverty  and  humility.  Sometimes,  when  she 
remained  at  home  with  her  maids,  she  put  on  the  mean- 
est apparel ;  saying,  "  That  she  would  never  use  any 
other  ornament  whensoever  the  good  and  merciful  Lord 
should  put  her  into  a  condition  wherein  she  might  more 
freely  dispose  of  herself."  When  she  went  to  church, 
she  was  accustomed  to  place  herself  among  the  poorer 
sort  of  women.  After  the  death  of  her  husband,  she 
undertook  a  pilgrimage,  wherein  she  gave  to  the  poor 
and  necessitous  all  that  came  to  her  hands  to  dispose  of. 
She  built  an  hospital,  and  therein  made  herself  an 
attendant  upon  the  sick  and  the  poor ;  and  when  by  her 
father  she  was  recalled  into  Hungary,  she  refused  to  go, 
preferring  this  manner  of  life  before  the  enjoyment  of  a 
kingdom. 

EXCELLENT  EXAMPLE   OF  ANNE  BOLEYN. 

"  Strive 

In  offices  of  love  how  we  may  lighten 
Each  other's  burden."  —  MILTON. 

"  QUEEN  ANNE  BOLEYN  is  said  to  have  been  provided 
daily  with  a  purse,  the  contents  of  which  were  entirely 
appropriated  to  the  poor,  when  she  casually  met  with 
proper  objects;  justly  thinking  no  week  well  passed 
which  did  not  afford  her  pleasure  in  the  retrospect. 
Impressed  with  this  conviction,  the  unfortunate  queen 
insisted  that  all  her  attendants  should  employ  their 
leisure  in  making  clothes  for  the  poor,  which  she  toot 
care  to  see  properly  distributed." 


216  BENEVOLENCE. 

CHARITIES  OF  LADY  BURLEIGH. 

"  Beside  the  marble  bust 
Which  marks  where  venerable  goodness  waits 
The  archangel's  call,  tradition  loves  to  sit 
And  chronicle  her  deeds."  —  MRS.  WEST. 

LADY  BURLEIGH,  wife  of  the  celebrated  Lord  Treas- 
urer of  England,  was  one  of  the  finest  examples  of 
active  benevolence.  The  following  amiable  picture  of 
this  lady's  character  is  extracted  from  a  manuscript  in 
the  Lansdown  collection  at  the  British  Museum,  which 
is  in  Lord  Burleigh's  own  hand-writing. 

"I  ought  to  comfort  myself,"  says  that  great  states- 
man, in  his  discourse,  which  he  calls  a  meditation  on  the 
death  of  his  lady,  "  with  the  remembrance  of  her  many 
virtuous  and  goodly  actions  wherein  she  continued  all 
her  life,  and  especially  in  that  she  did  of  late  years  sun- 
dry charitable  deeds,  whereof  she  determined  to  have  no 
outward  knowledge  while  she  lived;  inasmuch,  as  when 
I  had  little  understanding  thereof,  and  asked  her  wherein 
she  had  disposed  any  charitable  gift  according  to  her 
often  wishing  that  she  was  able  to  do  some  special  act 
for  the  maintenance  of  learning,  and  relief  of  the  poor, 
she  would  always  only  show  herself  rather  desirous  so 
to  do,  than  ever  confess  any  such  act,  as  since  her  death 
is  manifestly  known  to  me,  and  confessed  by  sundry 
good  men,  whose  names  and  ministry  she  secretly  used, 
that  she  did  charge  them  most  strictly,  that  while  she 
lived,  they  should  never  declare  the  same  to  me  nor  to 
any  other.  And  so  now  I  have  seen  her  earnest  writ- 
ings to  that  purpose  in  her  own  hand. 

"  The  particulars  of  many  of  these  hereafter  do  follow, 
which  I  do  with  my  own  handwriting  recite  for  my  com- 
fort in  the  memory  thereof,  with  assurance  that  God  hath 


BENEVOLENCE.  217 

accepted  the  same  in  such  favorable  sort  as  findeth  no\* 
the  fruits  thereof  in  heaven. 

"  About  —  years  since,  she  caused  exhibitions  to  be 
secretly  given  by  the  hands  of  the  master  of  St.  John's, 
in  Cambridge,  for  the  maintenance  of  two  scholars,  for  a 
perpetuity  whereof  to  continue. 

"  She  did  cause  some  lands  to  be  purchased  in  the 
name  of  the  Dean  of  Westminster ;  who  also  in  his  own 
name  did  assure  the  same  to  that  college,  for  a  perpetual 
maintenance  of  the  said  scholars  in  that  college.  All 
which  was  done  without  signification  of  her  act  or 
charge,  to  any  manner  of  person,  but  only  of  the  dean, 
and  one  William  Walter,  of  Wimbledon,  whose  advice 
was  used  for  the  writing  of  the  purchase  and  assurance. 

"  She  also  did,  with  the  privity  of  the  Deans  of  Paul's 
and  Westminster,  and  Mr.  Adderly,  being  free  of  th« 
Haberdashers  of  London,  give  to  the  company  of  the 
said  Haberdashers  a  good  sum  of  money,  whereby  is 
provided  that  every  two  years  there  is  lent  to  six  poor 
men  of  certain  special  occupations,  as  smiths,  carpenters, 
weavers,  and  such  like,  in  Eomford,  in  Essex,  twenty 
pounds  apiece,  in  the  whole  one  hundred  and  twenty 
pounds;  and  in  Cheshunt  and  Wootham,  to  other  six  like 
persons,  twenty  marks  apiece,  in  the  whole  fourscore 
pounds,  which  relief,  by  way  of  loan,  is  to  continue.  By 
the  same  means  is  provided  for  twenty  poor  people  in 
Cheshunt,  the  first  Sunday  in  every  month,  a  mess  of 
meat  in  flesh  and  bread,  and  money  for  drink.  And 
likewise  is  provided  four  marks  yearly,  for  four  sermons 
to  be  preached  quarterly,  by  one  of  the  preachers  of  St 
John's  College.  And  these  distributions  have  been 
made  a  long  time,  while  she  lived,  by  some  of  my  set- 
rants,  without  giving  me  knowledge  thereof;  though 
19 


218  BENEVOLENCE. 

indeed  I  had  .cause  to  think  that  she  did  sometimes 
bestow  such  kind  of  alms ;  not  that  I  knew  of  any  order 
taken  for  continuance  thereof,  for  she  would  rather  com- 
monly use  speeches  with  me,  how  she  was  disposed  to 
give  all  that  she  could  to  some  such  uses,  if  she  could 
devise  to  have  the  same  faithfully  performed  after  her 
life,  whereof  she  always  pretended  many  doubts.  And 
for  that  she  used  the  advice  of  the  Deans  of  Paul's  and 
Westminster,  and  would  have  her  actions  kept  secret 
she  forced  upon  them  small  pieces  of  plate,  to  be  used  in 
their  chambers,  as  remembrances  of  her  good  will  for 
their  pains. 

"  She  did  also,  four  times  in  the  year,  secretly  send  to 
all  tl~B  persons  in  London,  money  to  buy  bread,  cheese, 
and  drink,  commonly  for  YMir  hundred  persons,  and 
many  times  more,  without  knowledge  from  whom  the 
same  came. 

"She  did  likewise,  sundry  times  in  the  year,  send 
shirts,  &c.,  to  the  poor  people,  both  in  London  and  at 
Cheshunt. 

"  She  also  gave  a  sum  of  money  to  the  master  of 
St.  John's  College,  to  procure  fires  in  the  hall  of  that 
college  upon  all  Sundays  and  holidays,  betwixt  the  feast 
of  All  Saints  and  Candlemas,  when  there  were  no  ordi- 
nary fires  at  the  charge  of  that  college. 

"  She  also  gave  a  sum  of  money  towards  a  building 
for  a  new  way  at  Cambridge  to  the  common  school. 

"  She  also  provided  a  great  number  of  books,  whereof 
she  gave  some  to  the  University  of  Cambridge,  namely, 
the  Great  Bible  in  Hebrew,  and  four  other  tongues ;  and 
to  the  College  of  St.  John's,  a  very  many  books,  in 
Greek,  of  divinity  and  physic,  and  of  other  sciences. 
Tlie  like  she  did  to  Christ  Church  and  St.  John's  Col 


BENEVOLENCE.  219 

ege  in  Oxford.  The  like  she  did  to  the  College  of 
Westminster. 

"  She  did  also  yearly  provide  wool  and  flax,  and  did 
distribute  it  to  women  in  Cheshunt  parish,  willing  them 
to  work  the  same  into  yarn,  and  bring  it  to  her  to  see 
the  manner  of  working;  and,  for  the  most  part,  she 
gave  them  the  stuff  by  way  of  alms.  Sometimes  she 
caused  the  same  to  be  wrought  into  cloth,  and  gave  it  to 
the  poor,  paying  first  for  the  spinning  more  than  it  was 
worth. 

"Not  long  before  her  death,  she  caused  secretly  to  be 
bought,  a  large  quantity  of  wheat  and  rye,  to  be  disposed 
amongst  the  poor  in  time  of  dearth,  which  remained 
unspent  at  her  death ;  but  the  same  confessed  by  such 
as  provided  it  secretly,  and  therefore  in  conscience,  to  be 
so  distributed  according  to  her  mind." 


EXCELLENT  TRAITS  RECORDED  OF  LADY  APSLEI 

"  I  have  not  stopt  mine  ears  to  their  demands, 
Nor  posted  off  their  suits  with  slow  delays  : 
My  pity  hath  been  balm  to  heal  their  wounds, 
My  mildness  hath  allayed  their  swelling  griefs, 
My  mercy  dried  their  water-flowing  tears." 

SHAKSPEARE 

THE  lady  of  Sir  Allen  Apsley  is  said  to  have  been 
pious,  liberal,  and  actively  benevolent,  fulfilling  in  all 
respects  the  duties  of  her  station.  Perhaps  the  most 
pleasing  trait  recorded  of  her  is  her  kindness  to  the 
prisoners  in  the  Tower,  to  whom  the  office  of  her  hus- 
oa'nd,  who,  two  years  after  their  marriage,  was  appointed 
Lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  gave  her  access.  It  is  said  of 
her,  that  "  if  any  were  sick,  she  made  them  broths  and 
restoratives  with  her  own  hands,  visited,  and  took  care 


BENEVOLENCE. 

of  them,  and  provided  them  all  necessaries ;  if  any  were 
afflicted,  she  comforted  them,  so  that  they  felt  not  the 
inconvenience  of  a  prison,  who  were  in  that  place."  In 
one  instance,  Lady  Apsley  indeed  was  a  gainer  thrcugh 
her  benevolence.  It  was  her  privilege,  during  the  long 
confinement  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  to  contribute  to  his 
amusement,  by  furnishing  him  with  the  means  of  per- 
forming his  costly  chemical  experiments.  Besides  the 
pleasure  she  must  have  received  from  thus  gratifying  this 
distinguished  individual,  and  aiding  the  cause  of  science, 
she  was  herself  more  than  repaid  by  the  information  he 
in  return  bestowed  upon  her.  She  thus  acquired  a  com- 
petent knowledge  of  medicine,  which  she  transmitted  to 
her  daughter,  and  which  enabled  them  both  to  prosecute 
their  benevolent  wishes  with  skill  and  success.  On  a 
subsequent  occasion,  it  proved  of  peculiar  value  to  Mrs. 
Hutchinson.  Lady  Apsley's  charities  appear  to  have 
been  as  judicious  as  they  were  liberal ;  for  the  distressed 
widows  and  orphans  of  officers  were  her  peculiar  charge, 
and  her  own  house  was  continually  filled  with  poor  rela- 
tives. Nor  did  she  fail  in  her  domestic  duties ;  she 
educated  her  children,  guided  and  instructed  her  house- 
hold, and  was  ever  watchful  for  the  spiritual  interests  of 
both.  Her  husband  approved  and  seconded  all  her  good 
purposes,  and  from  his  daughter's  account  of  him,  must 
himself  have  furnished  a  bright  and  singular  example 
of  a  Christian  courtier  and  gentleman.  He  was  noble, 
generous,  loyal,  and  disinterested  to  an  almost  unparal- 
leled extent.  His  sacrifices,  indeed,  to  his  royal  master, 
James  I.,  could  scarcely  be  credited,  except  on  the  author- 
ity of  so  accurate  a  biographer  as  Mrs.  Hutchinson.* 

*  See  Mrs.  Hutchinson's  Memoirs  of  her  own  Life,  appenoed 
to  those  of  Colonel  Hutchinson,  la'-ely  published  in  Bolu  'a 
Standard  Library. 


BENEVOLENCE.  221 

This  lady  expresses  herself  thankfu  for  being  blessed 
with  parents  "  both  of  them  pious  and  virtuous  in  their 
own  conversation,  and  careful  instructors  of  her  youth, 
not  only  by  precept,  but  by  example."  During  the  three 
years  which  preceded  the  death  of  her  husband,  Lady 
Apsley  waited  upon  him  with  the  most  anxious  care. 
"  Not  satisfied,"  her  daughter  says,  "  with  the  attendance 
of  all  that  were  about  him,  she  made  herself  his  nurse, 
and  cook,  and  physician  ;  "  and  so  successful  was  she  in 
her  treatment  of  him,  in  her  threefold  capacity,  that  she 
was  the  means  of  "  preserving  him  a  great  while  longer 
than  the  doctors  thought  it  possible  for  his  nature  to  hold 
out."  At  length,  however,  he  sunk,  and  left  to  his  fam- 
ily only  the  recollection  of  his  virtues  and  the  blessing 
of  his  example. 

BENEVOLENCE  OF  THE  COUNTESS  OF  PEMBROKE. 

"  The  nobl«»c*  -^'nds  their  virtue  prove 
By  pir j ,  *y  mpathy,  and  love  ; 
These,  these  are  feelings  truly  fine, 
And  prove  their  owner  half  divine." — COWTER. 

"  ANNE  CLIFFORD,  Countess  of  Pembroke,  Dorset,  and 
Montgomery,  distinguished  herself  by  her  rare  merit  and 
singularly  high  spirit.  On  coming  into  possession  of  her 
estates,  which  consisted  of  five  castles  in  the  north  of 
England,  with  other  rich  possessions,  she  resolved  on 
repairing  and  finishing  these  fortresses  of  her  ancestors, 
which  had  been  greatly  injured  during  the  civil  wars. 
Oliver  Cromwell,  who  was  then  at  the  head  of  the  gov- 
ernment, had  by  his  usurpations  and  tyranny  inspired 
the  countess  with  an  aversion  for  his  character,  which 
she  took  little  pains  to  conceal.  Her  friends,  aware  of 
the  jealous  temper  of  the  Protector,  advised  her  to  be 
19* 


222  BENEVOLENCE. 

less  lavish  in  building,  hinting  that  there  was  cause  to 
fear  that  her  castles  would  be  no  sooner  rebuilt,  than 
orders  would  be  sent  to  demolish  them.  "  Let  him," 
said  she,  with  spirit,  "  destroy  them  if  he  will ;  he  shall 
surely  find  that  as  often  as  he  destroys,  I  will  rebuild 
them,  while  he  leaves  me  with  a  shilling  in  my  pocket." 

"  The  churches  belonging  to  the  villages  on  her 
estates  having  been  beaten  down,  or  converted  to  other 
purposes,  Anne  repaired  and  rebuilt  them ;  indeed,  her 
expenses  in  building  were  estimated  at  40,000  pounds. 
She  divided  the  year  into  periods,  residing  in  turn  at 
each  of  her  castles,  thus  superintending  the  whole  of 
her  estates,  and  carrying  blessings  in  her  train.  The 
patroness  of  the  distressed,  her  ear  and  heart  were 
open  to  their  complaints ;  her  expanded  mind  and  liberal 
fortune  were  in  unison ;  none  implored  relief  from  her 
in  vain.  To  occasional  acts  of  beneficence,  she  added 
permanent  endowments,  among  which  she  founded  two 
hospitals. 

"  By  the  side  of  the  road  between  Penrith  and  Apple- 
by,  appears  an  affecting  monument  of  her  filial  gratitude. 
On  this  spot  she  had  last  parted  with  a  belored  mother, 
a  separation  she  was  accustomed  to  recall  to  her  mind 
with  tender  sorrow,  and  in  commemoration  of  which  she 
erected  a  pillar,  its  base  a  stone  table,  known  in  the 
country  by  the  name  of  the  Countess'  Pillar,  on  which 
were  engraven  her  arms,  a  sun-dial,  and  the  following 
inscription :  '  This  pillar  was  erected  in  the  yeai  1656, 
by  Anne,  Countess  dowager  of  Pembroke,  for  a  memo- 
rial of  her  last  parting  in  this  place  with  her  good  and 
pious  mother,  Margaret,  Countess  dowager  of  Cumber- 
land, on  the  2d  of  April,  1616.  In  memory  whereof, 
she  hath  left  an  annuity  of  four  pounds,  to  be  distrib- 


BENEVOLENCE.  22J 

uted  to  the  poor  of  the  parish  of  Brougham,  every  2d 
day  of  April  forever,  upon  the  stone  table  hard  by. 
LAVS  DEO.'" 

The  memorial  pillar,  which  has  formed  the  subject  of 
a  very  pleasing  poem  of  Mrs.  Hemans,  is  thus  elegantly 
aMuded  to  by  Eogers  :  — 

"  Hast  thou  through  Eden's  wild-wood  vales  pursued 
Each  mountain-scene,  magnificently  rude, 
Nor,  with  Attention's  lifted  eye,  revered 
That  modest  stone,  by  pious  Pembroke  reared, 
Which  still  records,  beyond  the  pencil's  power, 
The  silent  sorrows  of  a  parting  hour  ?" 

"There  are  numerous  instances  of  her  benevolence 
and  liberality.  She  raised  a  monument  to  the  memory 
of  the  poet  Spenser.  Her  generosity  was  experienced 
by  several  of  the  ejected  ministers,  among  whom  may 
be  mentioned  King,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Chichester ; 
also  Duppa  and  Morley,  both  afterwards  Bishops  of 
Winchester ;  to  each  of  whom  she  allowed  four  pounds 
per  annum,  a  sum  worth,  of  course,  much  more  at  that 
period  than  in  the  present  day.  During  their  distresses 
abroad,  being  informed  that  a  sum  of  money  would  be 
more  serviceable  to  them  than  the  annuities,  she  remitted 
a  thousand  pounds,  to  be  divided  among  them." 

The  following  amusing  anecdote  is  related  of  this 
lady,  and  although  it  does  not  relate  to  our  present  sub- 
ject, may  serve  to  illustrate  her  singular  character. 

"  Among  the  tenants  on  the  estate  of  the  countess,  it 
wae'an  annual  custom,  after  paying  their  rents,  to  pre- 
sent a  boon-hen,  generally  considered  as  the  steward's 
perquisite,  and  ever  acknowledged  as  a  just  claim.  A 
rich  clothier  from  Halifax,  whose  name  was  Murgatroyd, 
having  taken  a  tenement  near  Skipton,  was  called  upon 
by  the  steward  for  his  boon-hen.  This  he  refused  to 


224 


BENEVOLENCE. 


pay ;  the  high-spirited  countess,  therefore,  commenced  a 
suit  against  him,  which,  the  parties  being  alike  inflex 
ible,  was  carried  into  great  length.  The  countess  estab- 
lished her  claim,  at  the  expense  of  two  hundred  pounds, 
when,  the  affair  being  decided,  she  invited  the  defendant 
to  dinner.  The  hen  was  served  up  as  a  first  dish 
'  Come,  sir,'  said  the  countess,  drawing  it  towards  her 
1  let  us  now  be  friends ;  since  you  allow  the  hen  to  be 
dressed  at  my  table,  we  will,  if  you  please,  divide  it 
between  us.'  " 

NELL  GWYNNE'S  BOUNTY. 

"  By  bestowing  blessings  upon  others,  we  entail  them  on  our- 
selves !  "  —  HORACE  SMITH. 

"  NELL  GWYNNE'S  Bounty  "  is  generally  believed  to 
supply  a  large  portion  of  the  Christmas  fare  distributed 
to  persons  incarcerated  for  debt  in  the  prisons  in  and 
about  the  metropolis :  a  writer  in  the  Times  newspaper, 
in  inquiring  into  the  manner  in  which  this  charity  is 
distributed  in  the  present  day,  gives  the  following  account 
of  the  benevolent  donor  : 

"  Nell,  in  the  codicil  to  her  will,  October  18,  1687, 
recommends  to  the  Duke  of  St.  Alban's,  her  son  and 
heir  by  King  Charles  II.,  '  That  his  grace  would  please 
to  lay  out  20Z.  yearly,  for  the  releasing  of  poor  debtors 
out  of  prison,  every  Christmas-day.'  Nelly,  in  the  follow- 
ing month,  paid  the  debt  of  nature,  being  buried  irl  the 
church  of  St.  Martin's-in-the-Fields,  November  17  ;  and 
the  duke,  under  date  of  December  5,  1687,  assented  that 
the  codicil  should  be  received  as  part  of  '  poor  Nelly's ' 
.ast  will  and  testament,  thereby  confirming  that  gift 
forever." 


BENEVOLENCE.  225 

'Eleanor  Gwynne  was  an  assumption  —  her  real 
name  was  Margaret  Symcott;  and  Manning  and  Bray, 
>n  their  History  01  Surrey,  (vol.  iii.,  Append.,  pp.  16,22,) 
particularize  the  ooon  which  needy  debtors  are  supposed 
to  receive  from  her  posthumous  bounty  :  — '  Among  the 
donations  to  the  poor  debtors  on  the  common  side  of  the 
Surrey  County  Gaol,  heretofore  known  (in  her  day)  by 
the  name  of  the  White  Lion  Prison,  is  —  "Mrs.  Mar- 
garet Symcott,  (or  Eleanor  Gwynne,)  sixty-five  penny 
loaves,  every  eight  weeks,  from  the  Chamberlain's  office, 
(now  Horsemonger-lane  Gaol.)  The  same  for  poor 
debtors  on  the  common  side  of  the  King's  Bench 
Prison." '  This  is  so  stated  in  the  schedule  hanging 
against  the  wall  of  the  entrance-hall  of  the  last-named 
mansion  of  distress." 

Nelly  was  never  wanting  to  alleviate  the  necessities 
jf  the  unhappy.  Her  hand  was  often  extended  to  relieve 
debtors ;  and  the  cause,  though  not  generally  known, 
was  this  :  her  father  died  while  immured  in  Oxford  Gaol 
for  debt,  some  time,  it  is  believed,  before  the  restoration 
of  that  monarch  who  conferred  on  "poor  Nelly"  the 
celebrity  yet  attached  to  her  name. 

GOODNESS  OF  MRS.  ROWE  TO  THE  POOR. 

"  Come,  child  of  misfortune  !  come  hither ; 
1  '11  weep  with  thee,  tear  for  tear."  —  MOORE. 

"  MRS.  Rows  was  accustomed  to  devote  the  whole  of 
her  income,  but  what  was  barely  sufficient  for  the  neces- 
saries of  life,  to  the  relief  of  the  indigent  and  distressed ; 
and  it  is  astonishing  how  the  moderate  estate  she  was 
possessed  of  could  supply  such  various  and  extensive 
benefactions  as  she  was  in  the  habit  of  bestowing. 


^  BENEVOLENCE. 

The  first  time  she  accepted  of  a  gratification  from  tha 
bookseller  for  any  of  her  works,  she  bestowed  the  whole 
sum  on  a  family  in  distress.  And  once,  when  she  had 
not  by  her  a  sufficient  sum  of  money  to  supply  the  like 
necessities  of  another  family,  she  readily  sold  a  piece  of 
plate  for  that  benevolent  purpose.  She  was  accustomed, 
on  going  abroad,  to  furnish  herself  with  pieces  of  money 
of  different  value,  that  she  might  relieve  any  objects  of 
compassion  who  should  fall  in  her  way,  according  to 
their  several  degrees  of  indigence.  Besides  the  sums 
of  money  she  gave  away,  and  the  distribution  of  prac- 
tical books  on  religious  subjects,  she  employed  her 
own  hands  in  labors  of  charity  to  clothe  the  necessitous. 
This  she  did,  not  only  for  the  natives  of  the  Lower 
Palatinate,  when  they  were  driven  from  their  country 
by  the  rage  of  war,  but  it  was  her  frequent  employment 
to  make  garments  of  almost  every  kind,  and  bestow 
them  on  those  that  wanted  them.  She  discovered  a 
strong  sense  of  humanity,  and  often  showed  her  exqui- 
site concern  for  the  unhappy  by  weeping  over  their  mis- 
fortunes. These  were  the  generous  tears  of  virtue,  and 
not  from  any  weakness,  for  she  was  rarely  observed  to 
weep  at  afflictions  that  befell  herself.  She  used  to  visit 
the  sick  and  wretched,  to  inquir»  into  and  supply  their 
wants ;  and  caused  children  to  he  taught  to  read  and 
work,  furnishing  them  with  clothing  and  good  books. 
This  she  did,  not  only  at  Frome,  but  in  *  neighboring 
village,  where  part  of  her  estate  lay.  And  when  she 
met  with  children  of  promising  countenances  wbo  were 
perfectly  unknown  to  her,  if,  upon  inquiry,  it  appeared 
that,  through  the  poverty  of  their  parents,  they  were  x\)1 
put  to  school,  she  added  them  to  *.he  number  of  tb?*> 
taught  at  her  own  expense.  She  \o«tr'icted  them  het 


BENEVOLENCE.  221 

•self  in  the  plain  and  necessary  principles  and  duties  of 
religion  ;  and  the  grief  she  felt  when  any  of  them  did 
not  answer  the  hopes  she  had  entertained,  was  equal  to 
the  great  satisfaction  she  received  when  it  appeared  that 
her  care  and  bounty  had  been  well  placed.  Her  chari- 
ties were  not  confined  to  those  of  her  own  opinions;  all 
partook  of  her  bounty.  Nor  was  her  beneficence  expe- 
rienced only  by  the  poor,  since  she  was  used  to  say,  'It 
was  one  of  the  greatest  benefits  that  could  be  done  to 
mankind,  to  free  them  from  the  cares  and  anxieties  that 
attend  a  narrow  fortune  : '  in  pursuance  of  these  generous 
sentiments,  Mrs.  Rowe  frequently  made  large  presents 
to  persons  who  were  not  oppressed  with  the  last  extremes 
of  indigence. 

"  The  death  of  this  virtuous  and  benevolent  woman 
was  lamented  with  very  uncommon  and  remarkable  sor- 
row by  all  who  had  heard  of  her  merit,  but  particularly 
by  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  where  she  had  so  long 
resided,  and  her  intimate  acquaintance.  Above  all,  the 
news  of  her  death  touched  the  poor  and  distressed  with 
inexpressible  affliction ;  and  at  her  doors,  and  over  her 
grave,  they  bewailed  the  loss  of  their  benefactress, 
poured  blessings  on  her  memory,  and  recounted  to  each 
other  the  gentle  and  condescending  manner  in  which  she 
had  heard  their  requests,  and  the  innumerable  instances 
in  which  they  had  experienced  her  unexampled  goodness 
and  bounty." 

GENEROUS  ACTION  OF  MRS.  PORTER. 

"  Good-nature  and  good  sense  must  ever  join  ; 
To  err  is  human,  to  forgive,  divine."  —  POPE. 

"!N  the  summer  of  1731,  as  Mrs.  Porter,  an  actress 
of  considerable  celebrity  in  her  day,  was  taking  the  air 


228  BENEVOLENCE. 

m  her  one-horse  chaise,  she  was  stopped  by  a  highway- 
man, who  demanded  her  money.  She  had  the  courage 
to  present  a  pistol  to  him,  but  the  man  assured  her  he 
was  no  common  robber ;  that  robbing  on  the  highway  was 
not  to  him  a  matter  of  choice,  but  of  necessity,  and  in 
order  to  relieve  the  wants  of  his  poor,  distressed  family. 
He,  at  the  same  time,  threw  himself  on  her  generosity, 
and  informing  her  where  he  lived,  told  such  a  melan- 
choly story,  that  she  gave  him  all  the  money  in  her 
purse,  which  was  about  ten  guineas.  The  man  left  her, 
when  giving  a  lash  to  the  horse,  the  chaise  was  over- 
turned, which  caused  the  dislocation  of  her  thigh-bone. 
To  the  honor,  however,  of  Mrs.  Porter,  it  is  recorded, 
that  notwithstanding  this  unlucky  and  painful  accident, 
which  occasioned  a  lameness  during  the  remainder  of  her 
life,  she  made  strict  inquiry  after  the  robber ;  and,  find- 
ing that  she  had  not  been  deceived,  she  raised  among 
her  piquaintance  about  sixty  pounds,  which  she  sent  to 
hirr  for  his  relief." 


NOBLE   EXAMPLE   OF  A  RUSSIAN  PRINCESS. 

"  Ye  proud,  ye  selfish,  ye  severe, 
How  vain  your  mask  of  state ! 
The  good  alone  have  joy  sincere, 
The  good  alone  are  great."  —  BEATTIB. 

"  MICHAEL  SCHTTPPACH,  the  Swiss  doctor,  who,  by  the 
wonderful  cures  he  wrought  on  persons  who  had  bee  a 
given  up  by  regular  physicians,  had  obtained  so  great  a 
celebrity  during  the  last  century,  was  often  visited  by 
people  of  distinction  and  fortune,  especially  from  Ger- 
many. There  were  once  assembled  in  Michael  Schup- 
pach's  laboratory  a  great  many  distinguished  persons 
from  all  parts  of  the  world,  partly  to  consult  him,  and 


BENEVOLENCE.  229 

partly  out  of  curiosity  :  and  among  them,  many  French 
ladies  and  gentlemer,  and  a  Russian  prince,  with  his 
daughter,  whose  singular  beauty  attracted  general  atten- 
tion. A  young  French  marquess  attempted,  for  the 
amusement  of  the  ladies,  to  display  his  wit  on  the  mirac- 
ulous doctor ;  but  the  latter,  though  not  much  acquainted 
with  the  French  language,  answered  so  pertinently,  that 
the  marquess  had  not  the  laugh  on  his  side.  During 
this  conversation,  there  entered  an  old  peasant,  meanly 
dressed,  with  a  snow-white  beard,  a  neighbor  of  Schup- 
pach's.  The  doctor  directly  turned  away  from  his  great 
company  to  his  old  neighbor,  and  hearing  that  his  wife 
was  ill,  set  about  preparing  the  necessary  medicine  for 
her,  without  paying  much  attention  to  his  more  exalted 
guests,  whose  business  he  did  no't  think  so  pressing. 
The  marquess  was  now  deprived  of  one  subject  of  his 
wit,  and,  therefore,  chose  to  turn  his  jokes  against  the 
old  man,  who  was  waiting  while  his  neighbor,  Michael, 
was  preparing  something  for  his  old  Mary.  After  many 
silly  observations  on  his  long  white  beard,  he  offered  a 
wager  of  twelve  louis-d'ors,  that  none  of  the  ladies  would 
kiss  the  old,  dirty -looking  fellow.  The  Russian  princess, 
hearing  these  words,  made  a  sign  to  her  attendant,  who 
brought  her  a  plate.  The  princess  put  twelve  louis-d'ors 
on  it,  and  had  it  carried  to  the  marquess,  who,  of  course, 
could  not  decline  adding  twelve  others.  Then  the  fair 
Russian  went  up  to  the  old  peasant,  with  the  long  beard, 
and  said,  '  Permit  me,  venerable  father,  to  salute  you 
after  the  fashion  of  my  country.'  Saying  this,  she 
embraced  him,  and  gave  him  a  kiss.  She  then  pre« 
sented  him  the  gold  which  was  on  the  plate,  with  these 
words  :  — '  Take  this  as  a  remembrance  of  me,  and  as 
20 


BENEVOLENCE. 


a  sign  that  the  Russian  girls  think  it  their  duty  to  honor 
old  age.' " 


BFNEFICENCE   OF  THE   PRINCESS  OF  WALES. 

'•  If  ever  on  thy  eyelid  stood  the  tear 
That  pity  had  engendered,  drop  one  here ! "  —  COWPER. 

"  HER  Royal  Highness,  the  Princess  of  Wales,  mother 
of  George  the  Third,  soon  after  her  arrival  in  England, 
being  accustomed  to  peruse  the  daily  newspapers,  per- 
ceived in  one  of  them,  December,  1742,  the  following 
advertisement :  —  'A  man  who  has  served  his  country 
bravely  is,  by  a  peculiar  circumstance  of  misfortune, 
reduced  to  the  extremest  distress.  He  has  a  family,  too, 
who  are  deeply  involved  in  his  fate.  This  intelligence 
will  be  sufficient  to  those  who  can  feel  and  who  can 
relieve.  Such  persons  may  be  more  particularly  informed 
of  his  past  misfortune,  and  may  be  witnesses  of  his 
present,  by  calling  at .' 

"  The  benevolent  princess  was  struck  with  this  adver- 
tisement, and  she  resolved  to  see  the  miserable  man  who 
advertised.  In  a  simple  morning-dress,  and  in  a  com' 
mon  chair,  to  avoid  the  public  eye,  she  set  out  about 
noon ;  a  lady,  who  was  her  favorite  and  companion, 
walked  slowly  behind  her.  They  eluded  all  observation, 
and  arrived  at  the  appointed  place. 

"  The  direction  led  them  up  two  pair  of  stairs,  into  a 
little  apartment,  which  they  entered.  A  woman,  whose 
ghastly  features  expressed  at  once  poverty  and  sickness, 
lay  stretched  on  a  comfortless  bed,  witnout  curtains,  and 
circled  in  her  arms  a  female  child,  whose  closed  eyes 
seemed  sealed  up  with  death,  and  wnose  face  outdid  her 
mother's  in  marks  of  want  and  despair.  A  tall  and 


BEREVOLENCE.  23l 

graceful  man  sat  before  a  cdd  fire,  having  on  his  knee 
a  boy  wrapped  round  in  a  flannel  petticoat ;  over  whom 
he  hung  his  head,  and  gazed  upon  him  with  looks  of 
affection  and  anguish.  All  this  was  seen  in  the  twink- 
ling of  an  eye.  Her  highness  stopped  short,  drew  close 
to  her  companion,  and  clasped  her  in  her  arms,  as  she 
had  suddenly  entered  this  mansion  of  horror.  The  man, 
starting  from  his  chair,  placed  the  child  by  the  side  of 
its  hapless  mother,  advanced  gracefully  towards  the 
ladies,  and  begged  of  them  to  sit  down.  Her  highness, 
opening  her  lips  for  the  first  time,  said,  '  With  all  my 
heart.' 

"  The  scene  that  ensued  surpasses  all  description. 
Hope  and  expectation  sat  trembling  on  the  parents'  eyes, 
while  sensibility  and  pity  beamed  from  the  royal  visitor's 
features,  and  diffused  over  all  her  countenance  a  grace- 
ful sorrow  and  dejection. 

"  The  attending  lady  disclosed  their  business.  «  They 
had  read  his  advertisement,'  she  said,  '  and  were  desirous 
of  receiving  the  information  which  it  promised.'  The 
man  thanked  them  for  their  humanity,  and  proceeded 
to  relate  his  story.  His  voice  was  good,  his  styje  was 
simple,  and  he  spoke  with  precision,  fluency,  and  grace. 

"  He  informed  her  Royal  Highness  of  the  whole  of 
his  misfortunes.  '  He  had  been  an  ensign  in  a  marching 
regiment,  which  was  then  in  Germany.  A  knot  of  those 
military  coxcombs,  with  which  every  regiment  is  crowded, 
had  conceived  a  pique  against  him,  ftr  being  braver  and 
more  sensible  than  themselves.  One  of  these  hot-headed 
youths  had  sent  him  a  challenge,  on  a  very  frivolous 
pretence,  which,  from  motives  of  duty  and  honor,  he 
refused  to  accept.  Pretences  were  drawn  from  this,  and 
combinations  were  formed,  to  insult  and  ruin  him.  They 


232  BENEVOLENCE. 

represented  him  to  the  chief  commander  as  a  coward,  a 
slanderer,  and  a  bad  officer.  His  conduct  was  inquired 
into,  and,  overpowered  by  numbers,  he  was  broken  for 
crimes  which  he  never  committed.  After  this,  he  set  out 
immediately,  with  his  little  family,  for  England,  to  lay 
his  case  before  the  Secretary  of  War,  and  to  implore 
justice ;  but  having  no  powerful  friend  to  introduce  him 
into  the  War-office,  the  secretary  would  not  listen  to  his 
complaints.  This  put  a  period  to  his  hopes.  His  wife 
was  then  seized  with  sickness,  and  being  destitute  of 
money  to  procure  the  necessary  remedies,  or  a  surgeon's 
attendance,  the  distemper  was  soon  communicated  to  the 
children ;  and,  in  a  fit  of  agony  and  despair,  he  had  sent 
the  advertisement  to  the  newspapers,  as  the  last  resource 
which  a  gentleman's  honor  could  submit  to.' 

"  It  was  a  case  of  unfeigned  distress ;  and  the  princess 
thought,  that,  in  his  present  desperate  situation,  she 
could  not  yield  him  sincerer  comfort  than  by  informing 
him  into  what  safe  and  powerful  hands  he  had  fallen. 
She  presented  him  with  ten  guineas,  and  told  him,  that 
'  the  Princess  of  Wales,  to  whom  he  had  now  related  the 
story,  felt  for  him,  and  would  procure  justice  to  him  his 
wife,  and  his  infants.'  The  astonished  ensign  had  almost 
dropped  on  one  knee,  to  make  his  acknowledgments  for 
her  condescension  and  goodness ;  but,  rushing  to  the  door, 
she  hurried  down  stairs,  and  returned  into  her  chair, 
leaving  the  ensign  wrapped  in  wonder  and  gratitude. 

"  The  princess  immediately  applied  to  the  Duke  of 
Cumberland  in  the  officer's  behalf;  and  after  a  week  had 
passed,  she  sent  for  him  to  receive  a  lieutenant's  com- 
mission, in  a  regiment  which  was  soon  to  embark  for 
Flanders.  Thus  provided,  she  enjoined  him  to  prepare 
for  the  expedition,  and  to  leave  his  little  family  under 


BENEVOLENCE.  233 

her  protection  till  his  return.  He  willingly  resigned  it 
to  so  beneficent  a  guardian,  and  set  off  for  his  regiment. 
While  abroad,  he  behaved  with  so  much  prudence  and 
bravery,  that  after  the  peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle  he 
returned  to  England  with  a  major's  commission.  He 
afterwards  lost  his  life  in  the  battle  of  Munden." 


THE  WIFE   OF  THE   PHILANTHROPIC  HOWARD. 

"  She  hath  a  tear  for  pity,  and  a  hand 
Open  as  day  for  melting  charity."  —  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  WHO  is  it,"  says  Fitzosborne,  "  that  is  placed  out  of 
the  reach  of  the  highest  of  all  gratifications,  those  of  the 
generous  affections,  and  that  cannot  provide  for  his  own 
happiness  by  contributing  something  to  the  welfare  of 
others  ?  To  complain  that  life  has  no  joys,  while  there 
is  a  creature  whom  we  can  relieve  by  our  bounty,  assist 
by  our  counsels,  or  enliven  by  our  presence,  is  to  lament 
the  loss  of  that  which  we  possess,  and  is  just  as  rational 
as  to  die  for  thirst  with  the  cup  in  our  hands. 

"  The  philanthropic  Howard  was  blessed  with  a  wife 
of  a  singularly  congenial  disposition.  On  settling  his 
accounts  one  year,  he  found  a  balance  in  his  favor,  and 
proposed  to  his  wife  to  spend  the  money  on  a  visit  to  the 
metropolis,  for  her  gratification.  '  What  a  beautiful  cot- 
tage for  a  poor  family  might  be  built  with  that  money ! ' 
was  the  benevolent  reply.  The  hint  was  immediately 
taken,  and  the  worthy  couple  enjoyed  that  greatest  of  all 
gratifications,  the  satisfaction  of  having  done  good  for  its 
sake." 

20* 


234  BENEVOLENCE. 


GENE110SITY   OF   THE   EMPRESS  CATHERINE. 

"  To  the  just  Gods,  not  us,  pertaineth  vengeance." 

THOMSON 

"  Generous  sympathy,  which  shines  confest, 
eternal  inmate  of  the  noble  breast."  —  ANNA  SEWIRD. 

"  WHEN  Dr.  Dimsdale  inoculated  Catherine  II.  for 
the  small-pox,  the  princess  took  precautions  for  securing 
his  personal  safety  in  case  of  her  death.  Finding  herself 
much  indisposed  on  a  particular  day,  she  sent  for  Dims- 
dale, whom  she  had  already  remunerated  in  a  manner 
becoming  so  great  a  sovereign.  '  I  experience,'  said  she, 
'  certain  sensations  which  render  me  apprehensive  for 
my  life.  My  subjects  would,  I  fear,  hold  you  account- 
able for  any  accident  that  might  befall  me.  I  have, 
therefore,  stationed  a  yacht  in  the  Gulf  of  Finland,  on 
board  of  which  you  will  embark  as  soon  as  I  am  no 
more,  and  whose  commander,  in  consequence  of  my 
orders,  will  carry  you  out  of  all  danger.' 

"  During  the  residence  of  the  Comte  d'Artois  at  St. 
Petersburgh,  he  received  every  attention  and  politeness 
from  the  Empress  Catherine,  who  was  anxious  to  show 
him  that  peculiar  benevolence  which  a  sensible  mind 
feels  for  misfortune. 

"  Being  afterwards  about  to  return  to  England,  the 
empress  ordered  a  frigate  to  be  fitted  up  in  a  magnificent 
manner  for  his  conveyance ;  and  the  night  before  hia 
departure,  she  sent  him  forty  thousand  roubles  in  money, 
and  a  case  filled  with  watches  and  other  jewellery.  The 
present  was  accompanied  with  the  following  delicate 
note: 

" '  On  the  eve  of  quitting  this  country,  your  Royal 
Highness  will,  no  doubt,  be  desirous  to  make  small  pre» 


BENEVOLENCE.  235 

ents  to  those  who  have  attended  you  during  your  resi- 
dence here ;  but,  as  you  know,  sir,  that  I  have  prohibited 
all  commerce  and  communication  with  France,  you  will 
seek  such  trifles  in  vain  in  this  city ;  they  are  not  to  be 
found  in  all  Russia,  except  in  my  cabinet.  I  trust,  there- 
fore, that  your  Royal  Highness  will  accept  these  from 
your  affectionate  friend  ! ' " 


ENCOURAGEMENT  TO  LITERATURE 

"  O,  grief  of  griefs !     O  gall  of  all  good  hearts ! 
To  see  that  virtue  should  despised  be ; 
Of  such  as  first  were  raised  for  virtue's  parts, 
And  now  broad  spreading  like  an  aged  tree, 
Let  none  shoot  up  that  nigh  them  planted  be  5 
0,  let  not  those  of  whom  the  muses  scorned, 
Alive  or  dead,  be  by  the  muse  adorned." 

SPENSER'S  Ruins  of  Time. 

LADY  MILLAR,  of  Bath-Easton,  near  Bath,  adopted  a 
novel  method  of  encouraging  genius,  and  at  the  same 
time  benefiting  the  poor. 

This  lady  held  an  assembly  at  her  elegant  villa,  once  a 
fortnight,  during  the  Bath  season.  She  rendered  this 
meeting  a  poetical  institution,  giving  out  subjects  at  each 
assembly  for  poems  to  be  read  at  the  ensuing  one. 

The  verses  were  deposited  in  an  antique  Etruscan  vase, 
and  were  drawn  out  by  gentlemen  appointed  to  read 
them  aloud,  and  to  judge  of  their  rival  merits.  These 
gentlemen,  ignorant  of  the  authors,  selected  three  poems 
from  the  collection,  which  they  thought  most  worthy  of 
the  three  myrtle  wreaths  decreed  as  the  rewards  and 
honors  of  the  day.  The  names  of  the  persons  who  had 
obtained  the  prizes  were  then  announced  by  Lady  Millar. 
Once  a  year,  the  most  ingenious  of  these  productions 
were  published,  and  the  profits  applied  to  the  benefit  of  a 


236  BENEVOLENCE. 

charity  at  Bath ;  so  that  Lady  Millar's  institution  was 
not  only  calculated  to  awaken  and  cultivate  ingenuity, 
but  to  serve  the  purposes  of  benevolence  and  charity 
It  had  continued  about  six  years,  when  it  was  put  a 
period  to  by  the  death  of  its  amiable  patroness,  which 
happened  in  July,  1781. 


BENEVOLENT  SERVANT-MAID. 

"  Earn,  if  you  want ;  if  you  abound,  impart : 
These  both  are  pleasures  to  the  feeling  heart." 

COWPER. 

"  IN  the  year  preceding  the  French  Revolution,  a 
servant-girl,  in  Paris,  had  the  good  fortune  to  gain  a 
prize  of  fifteen  hundred  pounds  in  the  lottery.  She 
immediately  waited  on  the  parish  priest,  and  generously 
put  two  hundred  louis-d'ors  into  his  hands,  for  the  relief 
of  the  most  indigent  and  industrious  poor  in  the  district ; 
accompanying  the  donation  with  this  admirable  and  just 
observation, '  Fortune  could  only  have  been  kind  to  me, 
in  order  that  I  might  be  kind  to  others.' " 


EXTENSIVE   BENEVOLENCE  OF  LADY  SHEFFIELD. 

"  So  should  young  sympathy,  in  female  form, 
Climb  the  tall  rock,  spectatress  of  the  storm ; 
Life's  sinking  wrecks  with  secret  sighs  deplore, 
And  bleed  for  others'  woes,  herself  on  shore  ; 
To  friendless  Virtue,  gasping  on  the  strand, 
Bare  her  warm  heart,  her  virgin  arms  expand  ; 
Charm  with  kind  looks,  with  tender  accents  cheer, 
And  pour  the  sweet  consolatory  tear."  —  DR. 

"  WHEN  the  disastrous  events  of  the  French  Revolu- 
tion had  thrown  so  many  of  its  victims  on  British 
bounty,  among  thoae  who  were  foremost  to  open  then 


BENEVOLENCE.  237 

houses  and  their  purses  to  the  unfortunate  emigrants 
was  Lord  Sheffield,  while  his  amiable  wife  rivalled  her 
generous  partner  in  mitigating  the  sufferings  of  so  many 
unhappy  persons.  Priests  and  laity,  men  and  women  of 
all  ranks  and  opinions,  provided  they  were  honest  and 
unfortunate,  found  protection  in  the  house,  relief  in  the 
bounty,  and  comfort  in  the  friendship,  of  this  virtuous 
couple.  Lady  Sheffield  was  particular  in  her  atten- 
tions towards  them ;  sometimes,  with  her  own  hands, 
she  administered  relief  to  the  French  women,  thus 
sparing  their  delicacy  while  she  provided  for  their  wants  ; 
at  other  times,  she  brought  them  medical  assistance.  In 
concert  with  her  husband,  she  commissioned  their  friends 
to  find  out  all  the  sick  emigrants,  whom  she  placed  in  an 
hospital,  of  which  her  brother  was  governor,  and  she 
furnished  clothes  to  those  that  wanted  them.  After 
carrying  on  this  '  labor  of  love  '  for  some  time,  her  lady- 
ship at  length  fell  a  victim  to  her  zeal  and  benevolence. 
For  some  time  she  had  been  afflicted  with  a  violent  and 
almost  incessant  pain  in  her  side,  which  she  would  not 
suffer  to  interrupt  the  course  of  her  humanity.  She  had 
just  fitted  up  a  house  for  the  accommodation  of  those 
who,  being  afflicted  with  contagious  diseases,  were  kept, 
by  the  fears  ef  others,  at  a  distance  from  all  kind  of 
relief. 

"  On  Good  Friday,  in  1793,  Lady  Sheffield  spent 
nearly  two  hours  in  this  hospital,  and  two  more  at 
church,  in  extremely  cold  weather.  The  next  day  a 
pleurisy  came  on,  and  on  the  Tuesday  following  she 
terminated  her  valuable  life.  The  loss  of  such  a  charac- 
ter could  not  be  too  much  regretted  by  mankind." 


239  BENEVOLENCE. 

FIDELITY  OF  MARGARET  DESMOU1INS. 
"  What  is  virtue  ?  " 

THE  above  question  having  been  proposed  to  an 
ancient  philosopher,  he  made  the  following  reply : 
"  Remarkable  and  brilliant  virtue  is  that  which  supports 
woe  and  labor,  or  which  exposes  itself  to  danger,  in  order 
to  be  useful  to  others,  and  that  without  expecting  or 
desiring  any  recompense." 

A  poor  female  domestic,  in  Paris,  gave  a  great  example 
of  benevolence,  which  occasioned  the  French  Academy 
to  decree  in  her  favor  the  prize  they  were  in  the  habit  of 
bestowing  annually  upon  the  most  virtuous  action. 

The  widow  Renault,  many  years  vendor  of  snuff  in 
the  enclosure  of  the  Abbey  St.  Germain,  became  poor 
and  helpless  at  the  age  of  seventy-five  years,  after 
having  lived  respectably,  and  well  established  two  of  her 
children.  At  length,  not  being  able  to  pay  her  rent,  she 
was  under  the  necessity  of  leaving  her  shop,  and  had  no 
home  for  shelter ;  even  her  children  abandoned  her  :  she 
would  have  been  left  to  perish  with  hunger  and  cold,  but 
for  the  kind  disposition  of  a  domestic,  who  had  lived 
with  her  three-and-twenty  years,  and  to  whom  she  was . 
indebted  for  fifteen  years'  wages.  This  excellent  female, 
named  Margaret  Desmoulins,  implored  the  charity  of  a 
neighbor  to  obtain  an  asylum  for  her  mistress  in  a  corner 
of  his  shop,  where  she  continued  her  trade.  As  this 
was  inconsiderable,  and  not  always  sufficient  for  the 
wants  of  her  dear  protegee,  she  tried  to  supply  them  by 
knitting  and  sewing  work,  or  selling  clothes.  She  even 
carried  her  generosity  to  the  extent  of  refusing  conditions 
offered  to  her  for  her  services,  because  her  mistrees 
would  no  longer  have  any  person  to  take  care  of  her. 


BENEVOLENCE.  239 

Ah  what  recompense  could  this  virtuous  girl  expect . 
She  received  not  even  the  sentiment  of  gratitude;  for 
the  widow  Renault,  incapable  of  appreciating  the 
services  she  rendered  her,  often  struck  her  in  anger. 
Do  we  not  see  true  benevolence  in  the  conduct  of 
Margaret  Desmoulins,  which,  in  obliging,  seeks  only  fox 
the  sweetness  of  doing  a  good  action  ? 


SELF-DEVOTION  OF  LA  BLONDE. 

"  Intrepid  Virtue  triumphs  over  Fate, 
The  good  can  never  be  unfortunate  : 
And  be  this  maxim  graven  in  thy  mind, 
The  height  of  virtue  is  to  serve  mankind." 

GRAINGER. 

THE  amiable  character  of  another  female  domestic  is 
equally  deserving  of  our  esteem  and  admiration. 

This  young  woman,  named  La  Blonde,  was  in  the 
service  of  M.  Migeon,  a  furrier,  in  St.  Honore-street,  in 
Paris ;  this  tradesman,  being  embarrassed  in  his  affairs, 
was  not  deserted  by  his  faithful  domestic,  who  remained 
at  his  house  without  receiving  any  salary.  Migeon, 
some  years  afterwards,  died,  leaving  a  wife  and  two 
young  children  without  the  means  of  support.  But  the 
cares  of  La  Blonde  were  now  transferred  to  the  assist- 
ance of  the  distressed  family  of  her  deceased  master, 
for  whose  support  she  expended  fifteen  hundred  francs, 
the  fruit  of  her  labor,  and  two  hundred  livres  of  rent 
from  her  small  patrimony.  From  time  to  time,  this 
worthy  servant  was  offered  other  situations,  but  to  all 
such  offers  she  replied  by  the  inquiry,  "  Who  will  take 
care  of  this  family,  if  I  desert  them  ?  "  At  length  the 
widow  Migeon,  consumed  with  grief,  became  ill.  La 
Blonde,  who  had  no  more  money,  then  sold  her  linen, 


240  BENEVOLENCE 

clothes,  and  all  her  effects;  she  passed  he.  days  in 
comforting  her  dying  mistress,  and  at  night  went  to  take 
care  of  the  sick,  in  order  to  have  the  means  of  relieving 
her  wants.  The  widow  Migeon  died  on  the  28th  of 
April,  1 787.  Some  persons  then  proposed  to  La  Blonde 
to  send  the  two  little  orphans  to  the  poor-house ;  but  the 
generous  girl,  indignant  at  this  proposition,  replied, 
"  that  at  Ruel,  her  native  country,  her  two  hundred 
livres  of  rent  would  suffice  for  their  subsistence  and 
her  own." 

Are  there  many  persons  in  the  world  who  can  boast 
of  as  much  benevolence  as  this  simple  domestic  ?  And 
should  we  not  be  tempted  to  conclude,  from  the  two 
virtuous  facts  here  recited,  that  the  most  exquisite  sensi- 
bility, the  most  lively  regard  for  the  unfortunate,  reign 
in  the  bosoms  of  the  lowest  classes  of  society  ? 


DONATIONS  OF  THE  COUNTESS  OF  WARWICK. 

"  Thy  great  example  left  behind, 

Shall  still  to  man  extend  thy  care ; 

Disclose  the  surest  path  to  fame, 

And  nobly  point  the  social  aim 
To  save,  to  pity,  and  to  spare !  "  —  WARWICK 

"  THE  celebrated  Countess  of  Warwick  always  devoted 
a  third  part  of  her  income  to  charitable  purposes.  It 
was  to  her  a  grateful  occupation  to  inquire  after  and 
relieve  the  wants  of  those  who  were  suffering  within 
the  circle  of  her  benevolent  influence.  There  was  no 
description  of  human  misery  which  she  did  not  endeavor 
to  alleviate.  She  sought  for  those  who  were  unable  to 
work,  but  ashamed  to  beg ;  and  many  a  poor  widow, 
deserted  orphan,  and  falling  family  pining  in  obscurity 
were  thus  unexpectedly  relieved ;  often,  when  assured  of 


BENEVOLENCE.  241 

ir  merit,  she  would  suddenly  advance  them  from  the 
rery  lowest  depths  of  poverty,  and  realize  hopes  which 
had  long  subsided.  Foreigners,  who  had  fled  to  England 
for  the  exercise  of  their  religion;  young  persons  of 
promising  abilities,  but  inefficient  means;  destitute  mini&- 
ters  of  various  denominations ;  and  deserving  individuals 
whose  incomes  were  insufficient  for  their  support,  found 
in  the  Countess  of  Warwick  a  munificent  protectress. 
Not  only  her  mansion  and  table,  but  her  confidence  and 
advice,  were  open  to  all  who  shared  the  privilege  of  her 
acquaintance ;  and  in  the  humblest  classes  of  society,  if 
any  were  sick  or  distressed,  their  first  application  was  to 
this  excellent  countess.  In  her  regard  and  compassion 
towards  the  indigent,  a  convenient  house  was  erected, 
both  at  her  residence  in  London  and  in  the  country,  to 
protect  them  from  the  inclemency  of  the  weather,  when 
assembled  for  the  receipt  of  her  usual  bounty.  Twice 
in  the  week,  bread  and  beef  were  provided  for  the  poor 
of  four  parishes  ;  and  in  her  will,  in  addition  to  numerous 
other  charities,  she  ordered  that  the  same  should  be 
continued  for  four  months  after  her  death,  and  that  one 
hundred  pounds  should  be  distributed  among  them." 


THE  LADIES  OF  GERMANY  AND  ENGLAND. 

"  Yet,  whilst  we,  sorrowing,  tread  this  earthly  ball, 
For  human  woes  a  human  tear  will  fall ; 
—  Blest  be  that  tear!  —  who  gives  it,  doubly  blest, 
That  heals  with  balm  the  orphan's  wounded  breast ! " 

ROSCCE. 

"  THE   miseries   of  war  which  afflicted   Europe   so 

severely  in  the  years  1813  and  1814  fell  with  increased 

force  on  the  kingdom  of  Saxony,  which  became   the 

arena  of  the  contest,  zfhd  was  the  scene  of  some  of  the 

21 


242  BENEVOLENCE. 

most  important  battles  recorded  in  history.  Thousands 
of  widows  and  orphans  had  to  lament  the  loss  of  husbands 
and  parents  in  the  dreadful  conflict,  and,  their  property 
destroyed  by  remorseless  war,  were  left  entirely  des- 
titute ;  but  charity,  the  darling  attribute  of  woman, 
stretched  its  hand  to  their  relief;  and  committees  of 
ladies  were  formed,  both  in  England  and  Germany,  for 
the  sufferers  on  the  continent.  In  England,  the  list 
boasted  of  all  who  were  most  distinguished  for  their 
rank,  wealth,  and  virtue ;  and  in  Germany  the  female 
philanthropists  were  not  less  respectable.  The  following 
address  from  the  ladies  of  Germany  to  the  ladies  of 
England  exhibits  a  fine  instance  of  extensive  female 
benevolence : — 

"To  THE  LADIES  OF   ENGLAND,  FROM  THE  LADIES  OF 

GERMANY. 

"  Dresden,  June  30,  1814. 

"  With  emotions  of  joy  and  gratitude,  we  have  learned 
from  the  public  prints  the  formation  of  committees  of 
benevolent  British  females,  whose  efforts  are  devoted  to 
the  alleviation  of  the  distresses  of  the  continent,  and 
who  in  particular  deeply  sympathize  in  the  forlorn  state 
of  the  unfortunate  orphans  of  Saxony,  which  has  had  to 
sustain  so  severe  a  trial.  Here,  too,  was  formed  a 
similar  society,  which  is  exclusively  engaged  in  providing 
for  these  destitute  little  ones.  Judge,  then,  what  must 
have  been  our  feelings  when  we  heard  that  our  sisters  in 
England  were  making  our  most  important  concern  their 
own.  With  deep  emotion  we  join  them  in  their  good 
work ;  and  approach  them  with  the  confidence  which  the 
Christian  sentiment  of  charity  and  benevolence  so  easily 
inspires.  Let  us,  then,  frankly  acquaint  you  with  our 
distresses,  as  well  as  with  what  Mas  been  done  to  relieve 


BENEVOLENCE. 

them,  and  what  we  venture  to  solicit  of  our  generous 
British  sisters.  We  need  not  repeat  how  grievously  our 
country  (in  which  the  emancipation  of  Europe  was 
achieved)  has  suffered  from  the  war  and  its  formidable 
train,  —  want  and  famine,  disease  and  misery,  devastation 
and  death!  All  this  the  public  papers  have  announced; 
and  we  know  that  you  cannot  be  strangers  to  the  subject 
in  general.  We  wish,  however,  that  we  could  describe 
to  you  the  individual  distress  which  surrounds  us,  the 
deplorable  state  of  the  children,  who  have  lost  father  and 
mother,  and  everything  along  with  them  ;  and  yet  we 
durst  not  give  you  a  faithful  picture  of  it,  as  it  would 
wound  your  hearts  too  deeply.  It  is  most  painful  to 
hear  in  what  a  state  these  children,  especially  those  of 
very  tender  age,  have  been  found  by  those  excellent  men 
who  feel  themselves  called  by  God  to  seek  out  misery  in 
its  most  secret  retreats.  They  were,  therefore,  the  first 
to  endeavor  to  alleviate  their  condition,  and  to  invite  all 
philanthropic  Christians,  both  at  home  and  abroad,  to 
take  compassion,  according  to  our  Saviour's  injunctions, 
on  these  little  ones.  They  addressed  themselves  in 
particular  to  our  sex,  to  whose  care  the  children  were 
especially  committed.  And  God  gave  power  to  their 
voice  ;  so  that  from  all  quarters  came,  offers  to  take  these 
orphans,  and  contributions  for  their  support.  The  com- 
mittee in  London  for  relieving  the  distresses  occasioned 
by  the  war  in  Germany  has  in  particular  exerted  itself 
in  our  behalf,  and  gives  us  hopes  that  it  wil  do  still 
more.  But  in  Saxony  also  an  excellent  spirit  wa» 
displayed  ;  and  those  to  whom  Providence  had  preserved 
part  of  their  property  cheerfully  extended  theirr  aid  to 
such  as  were  left  quite  destitute.  In  this  manner,  about 
two  hundred  children  have  already  been  placed  in  fami 


244  BENEVOLENCE. 

lies ;  and  four  small  institutions,  corresponding  with  our 
abilities  at  the  time,  have  been  erected,  into  which  the 
orphans  are  received,  till  new  parents  can  be  found  for 
them.  One  of  these  is  at  Dippoldiswalda,  for  boys ;  the 
second  at  Grunberg,  for  girls;  and  the  other  two  at 
Pirna  and  Dresden,  for  children  of  both  sexes.  So  long- 
as  we  can  meet  with  families  willing  to  receive  our  little 
ones  into  the  midst  of  them,  we  have  nothing  more  to 
wish  on  their  account.  But  naturally  this  number  must 
decrease  more  and  more;  and  for  this  reason,  —  because 
the  managers  of  these  institutions  are  unwilling  to  place 
any  of  the  children  out  of  their  depopulated  native  coun- 
try, and  their  yet  remaining  resources  will  be  speedily 
exhausted.  We  are,  therefore,  desirous  of  giving  perma- 
nence to  these  institutions,  (at  least  to  one  of  them,)  that 
the  orphans  who  cannot  be  otherwise  provided  for  may 
be  there  received,  educated,  and  supported,  till  they  shall 
be  able  to  earn  their  own  living.  To  you,  then,  beloved 
sisters,  we  turn,  and  entreat  you  to  devote  to  this  object 
the  bounty  which  you  may  have  destined  for  our  poor 
infants.  We  will  gladly  transmit  to  you  an  account  of 
its  application,  and  punctually  follow  every  direction  that 
you  may  give  respecting  it.  Encouraged  by  your  coop- 
eration, we  shall  exert  ourselves  the  more  cheerfully,  and 
God,  who  blesses  whatever  is  done  for  His  sake,  will  not 
fail  to  prosper  the  sisterly  covenant  in  which  we  are 
united.  (Signed) 

"  FREIDERICKA,  COUNTESS  of  DOHNA,  (born  of  Stolberg,) 
»  Directress  of  the  Orphan  House  at  Gunberg. 

"  AUGUSTS  VON  THUMMEL,  (born  Baroness  of  Westhern,) 

Directress  of  the  Orphan  House  at  Pirna. 
"  LOUISE  VON   SCHONBERG,  (born  Countess  of  Stolberg,) 

Directress  of  the  Orphan  House  at  Dresden. 
"  JOHANNA  AUGUSTA  ULTMAN.V,  (born  Lessing,)  Directress 

of  the  Orphan  House  at  Dippoldiswalda." 


BENEVOLENCE.  245 

BENEVOLENT  EXERTIONS  OF  MRS.  HANNAH  MORE. 
"  "We  are  born  to  do  benefits."  —  SHAXSFEARE. 

FROM  her  earliest  acquaintance  with  society,  Mrs. 
Hannah  More  had  seen  with  sorrow  the  levity  of  man- 
ners, the  indifference  to  religion,  and  the  total  disregard 
of  the  Sabbath,  which  prevailed  in  its  higher  circles. 
Not  content  with  holding  herself  uncontaminated,  she 
felt  it  to  be  her  duty  to  make  an  effort  for  a  reforma- 
tion, and  with  this  end  she  published  "  Thoughts  on  the 
Importance  of  the  Manners  of  the  Great  to  General 
Society."  To  appreciate  the  value  of  the  effort,  we 
must  remember  that  these  "Thoughts"  were  not  the 
animadversions  of  a  recluse,  but  of  one  who  was  flat- 
tered, admired,  and  courted,  by  the  very  people  whom 
she  was  about  to  reprove ;  that  the  step  might  probably 
exclude  her  from  those  circles  in  which  she  had  hitherto 
been  so  caressed.  But  the  happiness  of  her  friends  was 
dearer  to  her  than  their  favor.  That  the  probable  con- 
sequences did  not  ensue,  does  not  diminish  her  merit. 
This  work,  and  the  one  which  speedily  followed  it,  "  An 
Essay  on  the  Religion  of  the  Fashionable  World,"  were 
popular  beyond  hope  ;  and  the  wish  of  Bishop  Porteous, 
"  that  it  might  be  placed  in  the  hands  of  every  person  of 
condition,"  was  almost  realized.  It  is  unnecessary  to 
dwell  on  these  works ;  they  are  too  well  known ;  they 
established  her  reputation  as  a  great  moral  writer,  pos- 
sessing a  masterly  command  of  language,  and  devoting 
a  keen  wit  and  a  lively  fancy  to  the  best  and  noblest  of 
purposes.  Besides  the  above  works,  an  excellent  and 
vigorous  poem,  entitled  "  Slavery,"  was  written  by  Mrs. 
Hannah  More,  to  aid  the  efforts  which  Clark&on  and 


246  BENEVOLENCE. 

Wilberforce  were  making  in  behalf  of  the  African  slave, 
and  in  which  she  heartily  sympathized. 

In  withdrawing  herself  from  general  society  Mrs. 
More  had  cherished  the  hope  of  devoting  herself  to  med- 
itation and  literary  leisure.  But  there  was  no  rest  for 
her  but  in  the  consciousness  of  being  useful.  In  the 
course  of  her  rambles  in  the  neighborhood  of  her  resi- 
dence, she  was  shocked  to  find  the  same  vices,  against 
which  she  had  lifted  up  her  voice  in  high  places,  exist- 
ing in  the  peasant's  cottage,  in  a  different  form,  but 
heightened  by  ignorance,  both  mental  and  spiritual. 
Though  in  a  feeble  state  of  health,  she  could  not  with- 
hold herself  from  the  attempt  to  effect  a  reformation. 

In  this  she  had  no  coadjutors  but  her  sisters,  who, 
having  acquired  a  competency,  had  retired  from  school- 
keeping,  and  had  with  her  a  common  home.  Provision 
was  made  by  law  for  the  support  of  clergymen ;  but  the 
Vicar  of  Cheddar  received  his  fifty  pounds  a  year,  and 
resided  at  Oxford;  and  the  Rector  of  Axbridge  "was 
intoxicated  about  six  times  a  week,  and  very  frequently 
prevented  from  preaching  by  two  black  eyes,  honestly 
acquired  by  fighting." 

She  commenced  operations  by  seeking  to  establish  a 
school  at  Cheddar.  Some  of  the  obstacles  she  encoun- 
tered may  be  best  related  in  her  own  words  :  "  I  was  told 
we  should  meet  with  great  opposition,  if  I  did  not  try  to 
propitiate  the  chief  despot  of  the  village,  who  is  very 
rich  and  very  brutal ;  so  I  ventured  to  the  den  of  this 
monster,  in  a  country  as  savage  as  himself.  He  begged 
I  would  not  think  of  bringing  any  religion  into  the  coun- 
try; it  made  the  poor  lazy  and  useless.  In  vain  I 
represented  to  him  that  they  would  be  more  industrious 
as  they  were  better  principled ;  and  that  I  had  no  selfish 


BENEVOLENCE.  „        24? 

• 

riews  in  what  I  was  doing.  He  gave  me  to  understand 
that  he  knew  the  world  too  well  to  believe  either  the 
one  or  the  other.  I  was  almost  discouraged  from  more 
visits ;  but  I  found  that  friends  must  be  secured,  at  all 
events ;  for  if  these  rich  savages  set  their  faces  against 
us,  I  saw  that  nothing  but  hostilities  would  ensue ;  so  I 
made  eleven  more  of  these  agreeable  visits;  and,  as  I 
improved  in  the  art  of  canvassing,  had  better  success. 
Miss  W.  would  have  been  shocked,  had  she  seen  the 
petty  tyrants  whose  insolence  I  stroked  and  tamed,  the 
ugly  children  I  praised,  the  pointers  and  spaniels  I 
caressed,  the  cider  I  commended,  and  the  wine  I  swal- 
lowed. After  these  irresistible  flatteries,  I  inquired  of 
each  if  he  could  recommend  me  to  a  house,  and  said  that 
I  had  a  little  plan  which  I  hoped  would  secure  their 
orchards  from  being  robbed,  their  rabbits  from  being 
shot,  their  game  from  being  stolen,  and  which  might 
lower  the  poor-rates.  If  effect  be  the  best  proof  of  elo- 
quence, then  mine  was  a  good  speech,  for  I  gained  in 
time  the  hearty  concurrence  of  the  whole  people,  and 
their  promise  to  discourage  or  favor  the  poor  as  they 
were  attentive  or  negligent  in  sending  their  children." 
The  vicarage  house,  which  had  not  been  occupied  for  a 
hundred  years,  was  hired  as  a  schoolhouse.  "  The  vicar," 
she  says,  "  who  lives  a  long  way  off,  is  repairing  the 
house  for  me ;  and,  as  he  is  but  ninety-four  years  old,  ho 
insists  on  my  taking  a  lease,  and  is  as  rigorous  about 
the  rent  as  if  I  were  taking  it  for  an  assembly-room." 

The  prejudices  of  the  poor  were  more  difficult  to  be 
overcome  than  those  of  the  rich.  Some  thought  that 
her  design  was  to  make  money,  by  sending  off  their 
children  for  slaves.  Others,  that,  if  she  instructed  them 
for  seven  years,  she  would  acquire  such  a  control  as  to 


248  BENEVOLENCE. 

be  able  to  send  them  beyond  seas.  But  she  persisted 
and  her  success  was  great  beyond  expectation.  In  a  short 
time,  she  had  at  Cheddar  near  three  hundred  children, 
under  the  charge  of  a  discreet  matron,  whom  she  hired 
for  the  purpose. 

Encouraged  by  this  success,  she  extended  her  field  of 
operations,  and  established  schools  at  several  other  vil- 
lages. The  nearest  of  these  was  six  miles  from  her 
home ;  the  labor  and  fatigue  of  superintending  the  whole 
was  therefore  very  great.  But  she  declined  an  assistant, 
for  reasons  stated  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Wilberforce,  who 
had  offered  to  seek  for  one.  "  An  ordinary  person 
would  be  of  no  use ;  one  of  a  superior  cast,  who  might 
be  able  to  enter  into  my  views,  and  further  them,  would 
occasion  an  expense  equal  to  the  support  of  one  or  two 
more  schools.  It  will  be  time  enough  to  think  of  your 
scheme  when  I  am  quite  laid  by.  This  hot  weather 
makes  me  suffer  terribly ;  yet  I  have,  now  and  then,  a 
good  day,  and  on  Sunday  was  enabled  to  open  the 
school.  It  was  an  affecting  sight.  Several  of  the 
grown  up  lads  had  been  tried  at  the  last  assizes ;  there 
were  children  of  a  person  lately  condemned  to  be 
hanged ;  many  thieves ;  all  ignorant,  profane,  and 
vicious,  beyond  belief.  Of  this  banditti  I  have  enlisted 
one  hundred  and  seventy;  and  when  the  clergy- 
man, a  hard  man,  who  is  also  a  magistrate,  saw  these 
creatures  kneeling  round  us,  whom  he  had  seldom  seen 
but  to  commit  or  to  punish  in  some  way,  be  burst  into 
tears." 

Her  plan  was  not  limited  to  intellectual  and  spiritual 
instruction.  The  children  were  taught  to  sew,  to  spin 
and  to  knit.  Nor  were  her  labors  confined  to  the  ad- 
vancement of  the  well-being  of  the  young;  she  sough* 


BENEVOLENCE.  249 

to  introduce  branches  of  manufacture  suitable  to  the 
strength  and  sex  of  the  women,  and  she  arranged  with 
master  manufacturers  to  buy  the  products  of  their  labor. 
She  sought  to  establish  habits  of  economy,  by  getting  up 
associations,  in  which  each  contributed  a  portion  of  her 
earnings,  on  condition  oi"  receiving  a  support  in  case  she 
should  be  disabled  from  labor.  This  was  a  work  of 
difficulty.  Though  the  subscription  was  only  three  half- 
pence per  week,  yet  many  could  not  raise  even  this  :  such 
were  privately  assisted.  Other  inducements,  besides 
considerations  of  providence,  must  be  held  out  to  the 
improvident.  "  An  anniversary  feast  of  tea  was  held,  at 
which  some  of  the  clergy  and  better  sort  of  people  were 
present.  The  patronesses  waited  on  the  women,  who 
sat  and  enjoyed  their  dignity.  The  journal  and  state  of 
affairs  was  read.  A  collateral  advantage  resulted  from 
this.  The  women,  who  used  to  plead  that  they  could 
not  go  to  church  because  they  had  no  clothes,  now  went. 
The  necessity  of  going  to  church,  in  procession,  on  the 
anniversary,  raised  an  honest  ambition  to  get  something 
decent  to  wear,  and  the  churches  on  Sunday  were  filled 
with  very  clean-looking  women." 

Similar  machinery  was  brought  into  exercise  to  ad- 
vance the  cause  of  her  schools.  Two  years  after  the 
first  attempt,  we  find  this  apology  for  not  sooner  writing 
to  a  friend :  "  I  have  been  too  busy  in  preparing  for  a 
grand  celebration,  distinguished  by  the  pompous  name 
of  Mendip  Feast,  the  range  of  hills,  you  remember,  in  this 
country,  on  the  top  of  which  we  yesterday  gave  a  dinner 
of  beef,  and  plum-pudding,  and  cider,  to  our  schools. 
These  were  not  six  hundred  children,  for  I  would  not 
admit  the  new  schools,  telling  them  they  must  be  good 
for  a  year  or  two,  to  be  entitled  to  so  great  a  thing  as  a 


250  BENEVOLENCE, 

dinner.  Curiosity  had  drawn  a  great  multitude,  for  a 
country  so  thinly  peopled ;  one  wondered  whence  five 
thousand  people  —  for  that  was  the  calculation  —  could 
come.  We  all  parted  with  the  most  perfect  peace, 
having  fed  about  nine  hundred  people  for  less  than  ajfine 
dinner  for  twenty  costs." 

*  #  *  # 

In  the  year  1792,  affairs  wore  a  very  gloomy  and 
threatening  aspect  in  England.  French  revolutionary 
and  atheistical  principles  seemed  to  be  spreading  wide 
their  destructive  influence.  Indefatigable  pains  were 
taken,  not  only  to  agitate  and  mislead,  but  to  corrupt 
and  poison,  the  minds  of  the  populace.  At  this  crisis, 
letters  poured  in  upon  Mrs.  More,  from  persons  of  emi- 
nence, earnestly  calling  upon  her  to  produce  some  little 
tract  which  might  serve  to  counteract  these  pernicious 
efforts.  The  intimate  knowledge  she  had  shown  of 
human  nature,  and  the  lively  and  clear  style  of  her 
writings,  which  made  them  attractive,  pointed  her  out 
as  the  proper  person  for  such  an  effort.  Though  she 
declined  an  open  attempt  to  stem  the  torrent,  which  she 
thought  a  work  beyond  her  powers,  she  yet  felt  it  to  be 
her  duty  to  try  them  in  secret,  and  in  a  few  hours  com 
posed  the  dialogue  of  "  Village  Politics,  by  Will  Chip." 
The  more  completely  to  keep  the  author  unknown,  it 
was  sent  to  a  new  publisher.  In  a  few  days,  every  post 
from  London  brought  her  a  present  of  this  admirable 
little  tract,  with  urgent  entreaties  that  she  would  use 
every  possible  means  of  disseminating  it,  as  the  strongest 
antidote  that  could  be  administered  to  the  prevailing 
poison.  It  flew  with  a  rapidity  almost  incredible  into 
the  remotest  parts  of  the  kingdom.  Government  dis- 
tributed many  thousands.  Numerous  patriotic  associ- 


BENEVOLENCE.  251 

ations  printed  large  editions ;  and  in  London  only,  man} 
hundred  thousands  were  distributed. 

Internal  evidence  betrayed  the  secret  of  the  author 
ship ;  and,  when  the  truth  came  out,  innumerable  wer» 
the  thanks  and  congratulations  which  bore  cordial  tes- 
timony to  the  merit  of  a  performance,  by  which  the  tact 
and  intelligence  of  a  single  female  had  turned  the  tide 
of  misguided  opinion.  Many  affirmed  that  it  contributed 
essentially  to  prevent  a  revolution. 

The  success  of  "Village  Politics"  encouraged  Mrs. 
More  to  venture  on  a  more  extensive  undertaking.  The 
institution  of  Sunday-schools,  which  had  enabled  multi- 
tudes to  read,  threatened  to  be  a  curse  instead  of  a  bless- 
ing ;  for  while  no  healthy  food  was  furnished  for  their 
minds,  the  friends  of  infidelity  and  vice  carried  their 
exertions  so  far  as  to  load  asses  with  their  pernicious 
pamphlets,  and  to  get  them  dropped,  not  only  in  cottages 
and  in  the  highways,  but  into  mines  and  coal-pits. 
Sermons  and  catechisms  were  already  furnished  in 
abundance ;  and  the  enemy  made  use  of  the  alluring 
vehicles  of  novels,  tales  and  songs,  and  she  thought  it 
right  to  meet  them  with  their  own  weapons. 

She  therefore  determined  to  produce  three  tracts  every 
month,  written  in  a  lively  manner,  under  the  name  cf 
the  "Cheap  Repository."  The  success  surpassed  her 
most  sanguine  expectations.  Two  millions  were  sold 
in  the  first  year,  a  circumstance  perhaps  new  in  the 
annals  of  printing.  But  this  very  success,  she  tells  us, 
threatened  to  be  her  ruin ;  for,  in  order  to  supplant  the 
trash,  it  was  necessary  to  undersell  it,  thus  incurring  a 
certain  loss.  This,  however,  was  met  by  a  subscription 
on  the  part  of  the  friends  of  good  order  and  morals. 

The  exertion  which  it  required  to  produce  these  tracts, 


BENEVOLENCE. 

to  organize  her  plans,  and  to  conduct  a  correspondence 
with  the  committees  formed  in  various  parts  of  the  king- 
dom, materially  undermined  her  health.  She  continued 
them,  however,  for  three  years.  "  It  has  been,"  she 
writes,  "  no  small  support  to  me  that  my  plan  met  with 
the  warm  protection  of  so  many  excellent  persons.  They 
would  have  me  believe  that  a  very  formidable  riot  among 
the  colliers  was  prevented  by  my  ballad  of  '  The  Riot.' 
The  plan  was  settled ;  they  were  resolved  to  work  no 
more  ;  to  attack  the  mills  first,  and  afterwards  the  gentry. 
A  gentleman  gained  their  confidence,  and  a  few  hundreds 
were  distributed,  and  sung  with  the  effect,  they  say,  men- 
tioned above,  a  fresh  proof  by  what  weak  instruments 
evils  are  now  and  then  prevented.  The  leading  tract 
for  the  next  month  is  the  bad  »conomy  of  the  poor.  You, 
my  dear  madam,  will  smile  to  see  your  friend  figuring 
nway  in  the  new  character  of  a  cook  furnishing  receipts 
for  cheap  dishes.  It  is  not,  indeed,  a  very  brilliant 
career ;  but  I  feel  that  the  value  of  a  thing  lies  so  much 
more  in  its  usefulness  than  its  splendor,  that  I  think  1 
should  derive  more  gratification  from  being  able  to  lower 
the  price  of  bread,  than  from  having  written  the  Iliad." 

How  admirable  are  the  sentiments  here  expressed! 
and  how  much  gratitude  does  Mrs.  More  deserve  from 
us  for  her  many  excellent  works !  She  could  not  have 
bestowed  a  greater  benefit  upon  society  than  in  the 
admirable  lessons  which  remain  from  her  gifted  pen.  It 
is  gratifying  to  find,  that  even  the  noblest  in  the  land 
appreciated  her  worth  in  her  own  times :  and  that  when 
the  education  of  the  Princess  Charlotte  became  a  subject 
of  serious  attention  and  inquiry,  the  advice  and  assist- 
ance of  Mrs.  More  were  requested  by  the  queen.  This 
worthy  lady  was  strongly  recommended  to  that  important 


BENEVOLENCE.  25& 

office  by  Bishop  Porteous,  but  it  being  her  own  wish  in 
this  case  to  have  the  entire  direction  of  her  Royal  High- 
ness' education,  those  who  were  in  power  at  the  tima 
thought  it  would  be  placing  in  her  too  great  a  confidence, 
so  that  Mrs.  More  declined  any  engagement  in  a  subor- 
dinate capacity,  and  the  negociation  ended.  Her  ideas 
on  the  subject  were  given  to  the  world  under  the  title  of 
11  Hints  for  forming  the  Character  of  a  Young  Princess," 
a  book  which  subsequently  was  a  great  favorite  with  her 
for  whose  benefit  it  was  intended,  and  doubtless  con- 
tributed to  the  formation  of  those  virtues  and  principle.*! 
which  made  her  death  so  much  lamented. 


THE  REFORMATION  OF  NEWGATE. 

"  Give  me  leave 

To  speak  my  mind,  and  I  will  through  and  through 
Cleanse  the  foul  body  of  the  infected  world, 
If  they  will  patiently  receive  my  medicine." 

SHAKSPEA.RB. 

"  THE  benevolent  Mrs.  Fry,  being  induced  to  visit 
Newgate  by  the  representations  of  its  state  made  by 
some  persons  of  the  Society  of  Friends,  found  the  female 
portion  of  its  inmates  in  a  situation  which  no  language 
can  describe.  Nearly  three  hundred  women,  sent  there 
for  every  gradation  of  crime,  some  untried,  and  some 
under  sentence  of  death,  were  crowded  together  in  the 
two  wards,  and  two  cells  which  are  now  appropriated  to 
the  untried  alone,  and  are  found  quite  inadequate  to 
contain  even  the  diminished  number.  Every  one,  even 
the  governor,  was  reluctant  to  go  amongst  them.  Ha 
persuaded  Mrs.  Fry  to  leave  her  watch  in  the  office, 
telling  her  that  even  his  presence  would  not  prevent  its 
being  torn  from  her.  She  saw  enough  to  convince  her 
22 


254  BENEVOLENCE. 

that  the  wretched  inmates  of  the  prison  were  engaged  in 
every  species  of  wickedness.  '  In  short,'  said  she  to  her 
friend,  Mr.  Buxton,  in  giving  him  this  account,  '  all  I  tell 
thee  is  a  faint  picture  of  the  reality :  the  filth,  the  close- 
ness of  the  room,  the  ferocious  manners,  and  the  aban- 
doned wickedness  which  everything  bespoke,  are  quite 
indescribable.' 

"  Circumstances  rendered  any  attempt  on  Mrs.  Fry's 
part  to  reform  these  wretched  beings  impossible  at  that 
time  ;  but  about  Christmas,  1816,  she  resumed  her  visits, 
and  succeeded  in  forming  a  ladies'  committee,  consist- 
ing of  the  wife  of  a  clergyman,  and  eleven  members  of 
the  Society  of  Friends ;  to  whom  the  sheriffs  and  gov- 
ernor delegated  every  necessary  authority  for  carrying 
into  effect  the  benevolent  plan  which  they  had  conceived 
of  restoring  the  degraded  portion  of  their  sex  confined 
within  the  walls  of  Newgate  to  the  paths  of  knowledge 
and  of  virtue.  The  committee  professed  their  willing- 
ness to  suspend  every  other  engagement  and  avocation,  to 
devote  themselves  to  Newgate,  and  they  faithfully  per- 
formed their  promise ;  for,  with  no  interval  of  relaxation, 
and  with  but  few  intermissions  from  the  calls  of  other 
and  more  imperious  duties,  they  literally  lived  among 
the  prisoners.  It  was  predicted,  and  by  many  too  whose 
wisdom  and  benevolence  added  weight  to  their  opinions, 
that  those  who  had  set  at  defiance  the  law  of  the  land, 
with  all  its  terrors,  would  very  speedily  revolt  from  an 
authority  which  had  nothing  to  enforce  it,  and  nothing 
more  to  recommend  it  than  its  simplicity  and  gentleness. 
That  these  ladies  were  enabled  to  resist  the  cogency  of 
these  reasons,  and  to  embark  and  to  persevere  in  so 
forlorn  and  desperate  an  enterprise,  in  spite  of  many  a 
warning  without,  and  many  an  apprehension  within,  is 


BENEVOLENCE.  255 

no  the  least  remarkable  circumstance  in  their  proceed- 
ings: but  intercourse  with  the  prisoners  had  inspired 
them  with  a  confidence  which  was  not  easily  to  be 
shaken ;  and  feeling  that  their  design  was  intended  for 
the  good  and  for  the  happiness  of  others,  they  trusted 
that  it  would  receive  the  guidance  and  protection  of 
Him,  who  is  often  pleased  to  accomplish  the  highest 
purposes  by  the  most  feeble  instruments. 

"  A  school  being  thus  established  by  these  ladies  within 
the  prison,  for  the  purpose  of  teaching  these  unhappy 
women  to  read  and  work,  their  next  care  was  to  provide 
employment.  It  occurred  to  one  of  the  committee,  that 
Botany  Bay  might  be  supplied  with  stockings,  and  indeed 
all  articles  of  clothing,  manufactured  by  the  prisoners. 
She  therefore  called  upon  Messrs.  Richard  Dixon  and  Co., 
of  Fenchurch-street,  and  candidly  told  them,  that  she 
was  desirous  of  depriving  them  of  this  branch  of  their 
trade,  and,  stating  her  views,  begged  their  advice.  They 
said,  at  once,  that  they  would  not  in  any  way  obstruct 
such  laudable  designs,  and  that  no  further  trouble  need 
be  taken  to  provide  work,  for  they  would  engage  to  do  it. 

"  During  the  first  month,  the  ladies  were  anxious  that 
the  attempt  should  be  secret,  that  it  might  meet  with 
no  interruption ;  at  the  end  of  that  time,  as  the  experi- 
ment had  been  made  and  had  succeeded  even  beyond 
their  expectations,  it  was  deemed  expedient  to  apply  to 
the  corporation  of  London.  It  was  considered  that  the 
school  would  be  more  permanent,  if  it  were  made  a  part 
of  the  prison  system  of  the  city,  than  if  it  merely 
depended  on  individuals.  In  consequence,  a  short  letter, 
descriptive  of  the  progress  already  made,  was  written  tg 
the  sheriffs.  The  next  day  an  answer  was  receivedi 
proposing  a  meeting  with  the  ladies  at  Newgate, 


256  BENEVOLENCE. 

"  In  compliance  with  this  appointment,  the  Lord  Mayor, 
the  sheriffs,  and  several  of  the  aldermen,  attended. 
The  prisoners  were  assembled  together,  and  it  being 
requested  that  no  alteration  in  their  usual  practice  might 
take  place,  one  of  the  ladies  read  a  chapter  in  the 
Bible,  and  then  the  females  proceeded  to  their  various 
avocations.  Their  attention  during  the  time  of  reading ; 
their  orderly  and  sober  deportment ;  their  decent  dress ; 
the  absence  of  everything  like  tumult,  noise,  or  conten- 
tion ;  the  obedience  and  the  respect  shown  by  them ;  and 
the  cheerfulness  risible-  in  their  countenances  and  man- 
ners, conspired  to  excite  the  astonishment  and  admiration 
of  their  visitors. 

"  The  magistrates,  to  evince  their  sense  of  the  import- 
ance of  the  alterations  which  had  been  effected,  imme- 
diately adopted  the  whole  plan  as  a  part  of  the  system  of 
Newgate,  empowered  the  ladies  to  punish  the  refractory 
by  short  confinement,  undertook  part  of  the  expense  of 
the  matron,  and  loaded  the  ladies  with  thanks  and 
benedictions. 

"  The  effect  wrought  by  the  advice  and  admonitions 
of  the  ladies  may,  perhaps,  be  evinced  more  forcibly  by 
a  single  and  slight  occurrence,  than  by  any  description. 
It  was  a  practice  of  immemorial  usage  for  convicts,  on  the 
night  preceding  their  departure  for  Botany  Bay,  to  pull 
down  and  to  break  everything  breakable  within  their 
part  of  the  prison,  and  to  go  off  shouting,  with  the  most 
hardened  effrontery.  When  the  period  approached,  every 
one  dreaded  this  night  of  disturbance  and  devastation. 
To  the  surprise  of  the  oldest  turnkey,  no  noise  was 
heard,  not  a  window  was  intentionally  broken.  They 
took  an  affection  ite  leave  of  their  companions,  and 
expressed  the  utmost  gratitude  to  their  benefactors :  the 
next  day,  they  entered  their  conveyances  without  any 


tumult ;  and  their  departure,  in  the  tears  that  were  shed, 
and  the  mournful  decorum  that  was  observed,  resembled 
a  funeral  procession ;  and  so  orderly  was  their  behavior, 
that  it  was  unnecessary  to  send  more  than  half  the  Usual 
escort." 

" '  It  will  naturally  be  asked,'  says  Mr.  Buxton,  '  how 
and  by  what  vital  principles  was  the  reformation  in 
Newgate  accomplished  ?  How  were  the  few  ladies,  of  no 
extraordinary  influence,  unknown  even  by  name  to  the 
magistrates  of  the  metropolis,  enabled  with  such  facility 
to  guide  those  who  had  baffled  all  authority,  and  defied 
all  the  menaces  of  the  law  ?  —  how  was  it  that  they 

"  Wielded  at  will  this  fierce  democracy  ? " 

How  did  they  divest  habit  of  its  influence?  By  what 
charm  did  they  transform  vice  into  virtue,  not  into  order  ? 
A  visit  to  Newgate  explained  all.  I  found  that  the  ladies 
ruled  by  the  law  of  kindness,  written  in  their  hearts,  and 
displayed  in  their  actions.  They  spoke  to  the  prisoners 
with  affection,  mixed  with  prudence.  These  had  long 
been  rejected  by  all  reputable  society.  It  was  long  since 
they  had  heard  the  voice  of  real  compassion,  or  seen  the 
example  of  real  virtue.  They  had  steeled  their  minds 
against  the  terrors  of  punishment;  but  they  were  melted 
at  the  warning  voice  of  those  who  felt  for  their  sorrows, 
while  they  gently  reproved  their  misdeeds ;  and  that 
virtue  which  discovered  itself  in  such  amiable  exertions 
for  them  recommended  itself  to  their  imitation  with 
double  attractions.' 

"  Queen  Charlotte,  being  informed  of  the  laudable  exer- 
tions of  Mrs.  Fry,  expressed  a  wish  to  see  her ;  and  in  an 
interview  which  took  place,  testified  in  the  most  flatter- 
ing terms  the  admiration  which  she  felt  for  her  conduct 
22* 


258  BENEVOLENCE. 

"  The  grand  jury  of  th3  city  of  London  also  marked 
their  approbation  of  Mrs.  Fry's  meritorious  services,  in 
their  report  to  the  court  at  the  Old  Bailey,  on  visiting 
Newgate  the  21st  of  February,  1818,  in  the  following 
handsome  manner : 

"  •  The  grand  jury  cannot  conclude  this  report  with- 
out expressing,  in  an  especial  manner,  the  peculiar  grati- 
fication they  experience  in  observing  the  important  ser- 
vices rendered  by  Mrs.  Fry  and  her  friends,  and  the 
habits  of  religion,  order,  industry  and  cleanliness,  which 
her  humane,  benevolent  and  praiseworthy  exertions  have 
introduced  among  the  female  prisoners ;  and  that,  if  the 
principles  which  govern  her  regulations  were  adopted 
towards  the  males  as  well  as  females,  it  would  be  the 
means  of  converting  a  prison  into  a  school  of  reform; 
and  instead  of  sending  criminals  back  into  the  world 
(as  is  now  too  generally  the  case)  hardened  in  vice  and 
depravity,  they  would  be  restored  to  it  repentant,  and 
probably  become  useful  members  of  society.' 

"  The  grand  jury  repeated  the  same  sentiments  in  a 
letter  which  they  wrote  to  Mrs.  Fry  herself,  enclosing  a 
donaiion  for  her  Benevolent  Fund." 


THE  PRINCESS  CHARLOTTE   OF  WALES. 

"  A  soul  more  spotless  never  claimed  a  tear ; 
A  heart  more  tender,  open,  and  sincere  ; 
A  hand  more  ready  blessings  to  bestow ; 
Beloved,  lamented,  and  without  a  foe  ; 
How  prized  in  life,  say  ye  who  knew  her  well ; 
How  wept  in  death,  a  nation's  tears  may  tell." 

Epitaph  on  H.  R.  H.  the  PRINCESS  CHARLOTTE. 

MANY  instances  have  been  recorded  of  the  benevo* 
lence  of  the  lamented  Princess  Charlotte  whose  compas 


BENEVOLENCE.  259 

sionatc  disposition  was  ever  directed  in  some  act  of 
beneficence  for  the  consolation  of  the  distressed. 

"  During  the  residence  of  her  Royal  Highness  at 
Bognor,  where  she  had  gone  for  the  recovery  of  her 
health,  an  officer  of  long  standing  in  the  army  was 
arrested  for  a  small  sum,  and  being  at  a  distance  from 
his  friends,  and  unable  to  procure  bail,  he  was  on  the 
point  of  being  torn  from  his  family,  to  be  conveyed  to 
Arundel  gaol.  The  circumstance  came  to'the  knowledge 
of  the  princess,  who,  in  the  momentary  impulse  of  gen- 
erous feeling,  exclaimed,  '  I  will  be  his  bail ! '  Then, 
suddenly  recollecting  herself,  she  inquired  the  amount 
of  the  debt ;  which  being  told  her,  '  There,'  said  she, 
handing  a  purse  with  more  than  the  sum,  '  take  this  to 
him  ;  it  is  hard  that  he  who  has  exposed  his  life  in  the 
field  of  battle  should  ever  experience  the  rigors  of  a 
prison.' 

"  During  the  last  illness  of  an  old  female  attendant, 
formerly  nurse  to  .the  Princess  Charlotte,  she  visited  her 
every  day,  sat  by  her  bedside,  and  with  her  own  hand 
administered  the  medicine  prescribed.  When  death  had 
closed  the  eyes  of  this  poor  woman,  instead  of  fleeing  in 
haste  from  an  object  so  appalling  to  the  young  and  gay 
in  general,  the  princess  remained  and  gave  utterance  to 
the  compassion  she  felt  on  viewing  the  remains  in  that 
state  from  which  majesty  itself  cannot  be  exempt.  A 
friend  of  the  deceased,  seeing  her  Royal  Highness  was 
much  affected,  said,  'If  your  Royal  Highness  would 
condescend  to  touch  her,  perhaps  you  would  not  dream 
of  her.'  Touch  her,'  replied  the  amiable  princess, '  yes, 
poor  thing  !  and  kiss  her  too ;  almost  the  only  one  1  ever 
kissed,  except  my  poor  mother ! '  Then  bending  her 
graceful  head  over  the  coffin  of  her  humble  friend,  she 


260  BENEVOLENCE. 

pressed  her  warm  lip?  to  the  clay-cold  cheeks,  while 
tears  of  sensibility  flowed  from  her  eyes. 

"  When,  on  the  marriage  of  the  Princess  Charlotte,  she 
retired  with  her  consort  to  Claremont,  she  found  a  poor 
old  woman,  Dame  Bewly,  who  had  formerly  lived  with 
several  families  who  had  successively  occupied  the 
estate  ;  but,  who,  worn  down  with  age  and  infirmity, 
was  unable  to  labor  any  longer.  She  was  now  living  on 
the  occasional  charity  of  the  mansion,  and  the  small 
earnings  of  her  aged  husband.  No  sooner  did  the 
benevolent  princess  hear  of  this,  than  she  visited  Dame 
Bewly,  whom  she  found  endeavoring  to  read  an  old 
Bible,  the  small  print  of  which,  to  her  enfeebled  eyes, 
was  almost  undistinguishable. 

"  The  next  day,  the  princess  sent  her  a  new  prayer- 
book  and  a  Bible  of  the  largest  print;  her  shattered 
cottage  was  rebuilt,  and  she  no  longer  lived  on  the  pre- 
carious bounty  of  the  successive  Lords  of  Claremont. 

"  The  Princess  Charlotte's  acts  of  beneficence  were 
alike  distinguished  for  their  liberality  and  judiciousness. 
Her  bounty  was  invariably  preceded  by  inquiry,  and 
never,  with  her  knowledge,  did  it  fall  but  on  merit  and 
virtue.  Her  Royal  Highness  carried  this  habit  of  dis- 
crimination even  into  the  choice  of  her  tradesmen.  More 
than  one  of  these  were  indebted  for  the  preference  they 
obtained  to  the  honorable  anxiety  of  the  princess  to 
indemnify  them  for  the  losses  which  they  had  sustained 
through  other  less  opulent  branches  of  the  royal  family. 
In  the  majority  of  cases,  however,  the  motive  for  selec- 
tion was  of  a  more  unmixed  kind,  the  pure  desire  of 
doing  the  most  good  with  the  money  which  she  expended. 

"  Finding  that  all  who  had  applied  for  the  honor  of 
serving  her  household  with  meat  were  opulent,  her  Roya 


BENEVOLENCE.  261 

Highness  inquired  if  there  were  no  other  butchers  in 
Esher.  The  steward  at  first  replied  he  believed  there 
was  no  other ;  but  on  recollection,  he  said  there  was  one 
man,  but  that  he  was  in  such  low  circumstances  that  it 
would  be  impossible  for  him  to  undertake  the  contract. 
'  I  should  like  to  see  this  man,'  said  the  princess.  He 
was,  of  course,  though  very  unexpectedly,  summoned  to 
Claremont;  when  he  candidly  confessed  that  his  poverty 
was  such  as  to  make  it  impossible  for  him  to  send  in 
such  meat  as  he  would  wish  to  supply  to  the  royal  house- 
hold ;  he  never  even  thought  of  offering  himself  as  a 
candidate  for  the  contract.  '  What  sum,'  inquired  the 
princess,  '  would  be  necessary  to  enable  you  to  go  to  the 
market  upon  equal  terms  with  your  more  opulent  fellow- 
tradesmen  ?  '  The  poor  man  was  quite  embarrassed  at 
such  a  prospect  before  him,  and  overwhelmed  with  the 
royal  condescension.  At  length  he  named  a  sum.  '  You 
shall  have  it,'  said  the  amiable  princess, '  and  shall  hence- 
forth supply  my  household.' 

"  This  noble  act  of  generosity  rescued  a  deserving 
man  from  the  struggles  of  poverty,  and  enabled  him  to 
make  a  comfortable  provision  for  his  family. 

"  In  one  of  her  Royal  Highness'  walks  with  Prince 
Leopold,  in  November,  1S16,  she  addressed  a  decent- 
looking  person,  who  was  employed  as  a  day-laborer, 
and  said,  '  My  good  man,  you  have  seen  better  days.' 
'  I  have,  your  Royal  Highness,'  answered  the  laborer : 
'  I  have  rented  a  good  farm,  but  the  change  in  the  times 
has  ruined  me.'  At  this  reply,  she  burst  into  tears,  and 
observed  to  Prince  Leopold :  '  Let  us  be  grateful  to 
Providence  for  his  blessings,  and  endeavor  to  fulfil  the 
important  duties  required  of  us,  to  make  all  our  laborers 
happy!'  On  her  return  home,  she  desired  the  steward 


262  BENEVOLENCE. 

to  obtain  a  list  of  all  the  deserving  objects  of  charity 
employed  in  the  house  and  park,  and  in  the  village  of 
Esher,  with  the  number  of  each  family,  &c. 

"  A  communication  was  then  made  to  the  household, 
that  it  was  the  wish  of  their  Royal  and  Serene  High- 
nesses to  make  them  happy  and  comfortable,  yet  that 
there  should  be  no  waste  of  a  single  article  of  provisions 
at  the  several  tables ;  but  that  all  the  remnants  should  be 
delivered  to  the  clerk  of  the  kitchen,  who  was  appointed 
to  distribute  food  to  the  several  applicants  who  had 
tickets  in  proportionate  quantities.  This  regulation  was 
cheerfully  obeyed ;  and  for  nineteen  months  scarcely  a 
crust  of  bread  was  wasted  throughout  the  whole  estab- 
lishment. Instead  of  festivities  on  the  prince's  birthday, 
in  December,  150Z.  was  expended  in  supplying  the  honest 
and  poor  laborers  with  clothing ;  and  on  the  birthday  of 
the  Princess  Charlotte,  in  January,  her  Royal  Highness 
expended  the  same  sum  in  clothing  the  poor  women. 

"The  Princess  Charlotte  always  exerted  her  utmost 
influence  to  promote  the  trade  and  commerce  of  her 
native  country.  Being  informed  of  the  distressed  state 
of  the  weavers  in  Spitalfields  in  the  year  1817,  she 
immediately  ordered  from  a  manufactory  there  a  suit  of 
elegant  rich  furniture,  and  a  variety  of  rich  silks  for 
dresses,  to  the  value  of  1000A,  which  were  sent  as 
presents  to  her  continental  connections.  She  explicitly 
announced  to  her  establishment,  that  she  expected  they 
would  wear  dresses  of  British  manufacture  only  ;  and 
at  the  same  time  her  Royal  Highness  insisted  that  her 
dress-makers  should  not  introduce  anything  foreign  into 
the  articles  she  ordered,  on  pain  of  incurring  her  displeas- 
ure, and  ceasing  to  be  longer  employed.  On  one  occa> 
sion,  an  India  shawl,  of  the  most  exquisite  workmanship, 


BENEVOLENCE.  o 

At  value  of  ••vhich  was  estimated  at  three  thousand 
guineas,  being  handed  to  her  Royal  Highness,  the 
princess  having  ascertained  that  the  shawl  had  been 
clandestinely  brought  into  the  country,  severely  rebuked 
the  person  who  had  tendered  it  to  her,  and  said,  '  In  the 
first  place,  I  cannot  afford  to  give  three  thousand  guineas 
for  a  shawl ;  and  in  the  second,  a  Norwich  shawl,  of  the 
value  of  half-a-crown,  manufactured  by  a  native  of 
England,  would  become  me  better  than  the  costliest 
article  which  the  loom  of  India  ever  produced.' " 


AMIABLE   CHARACTERISTICS   OF   THE   EMPRESS 
JOSEPHINE. 

"  What  infinite  heart's-ease  must  kings  neglect, 
That  private  men  enjoy  !     And  what  have  kings, 
That  privates  have  not  too,  save  ceremony,  — 
Save  general  ceremony? 
And  what  art  thou,  thou  idol,  Ceremony  ? 
*  *  *  *  # 

Art  thou  aught  else,  but  place,  degree  and  form, 
Creating  awe  and  fear  in  other  men  ? 
Wherein  thou  art  less  happy,  being  feared, 
Than  they  in  fearing."  —  SHAKSPEARE. 

UPON  the  elevation  of  her  husband,  Josephine  discov- 
ered that  the  state  and  ceremony  of  the  Consulship 
greatly  interfered  with  the  pleasures  of  domestic  inter- 
course :  she  felt  herself  placed  alone,  above  the  kindly 
glow  of  equal  affections  ;  —  a  wretched  condition  for  one 
"  whose  first  desire  was  to  be  loved."  She  sought, 
however,  by  increased  kindness,  to  lessen  the  distance 
between  herself  and  her  old  friends  and  companions. 
Nothing  could  be  more  amiable  than  the  reception 
which  she  gave  to  those  who  came  to  take  the  oaths 
jf  fidelity  on  receiving  appointments  in  her  household. 
She  took  care  to  remove  all  ostentatious  ceremony, 


264  BENEVOLEIWE. 

lalked  to  them  on  familiar  topics,  and  sought  to  make 
the  whole  pass  as  an  agreement  between  two  friends  to 
love  each  other.  This  condescension  extended  even  to 
her  humble  domestics,  yet  never  degenerated  into  undig- 
nified familiarity,  or  absence  of  self-possession,  as  the 
following  little  incident  will  show.  On  the  first  occasion 
of  her  leaving  St.  Cloud  for  a  distant  excursion  as 
empress,  she  traversed  a  whole  suite  of  apartments  to 
give  directions  to  a  very  subaltern  person  of  the  house- 
hold. The  grand"  steward  ventured  to  remonstrate  on 
her  thus  compromising  her  dignity.  The  empress  gayly 
replied,  "  You  are  quite  right,  my  good  sir ;  such  neglect 
of  etiquette  would  be  altogether  inexcusable  in  a  princess 
trained  from  birth  to  the  restraints  of  a  throne ;  but  have 
the  goodness  to  recollect  that  I  have  enjoyed  the  felicity 
of  living  so  many  years  as  a  private  individual,  and  do 
not  take  it  amiss  if  I  sometimes  venture  to  speak  kindly 
to  my  servants,  without  an  interpreter." 

Charlemagne  had  received  the  holy  unction  from  the 
hands  of  the  head  of  the  Catholic  Church  :  Napoleon 
aspired  to  the  same  distinction,  but  with  this  difference, 
—  instead  of  going  to  Rome  to  receive  it,  the  Pope  was 
brought  to  Paris  to  administer  it.  He  suffered  much 
from  the  climate  of  France,  which  was  too  severe  for 
his  delicate  health.  The  solicitude  of  the  empress  to 
provide  for  his  comfort  was  extreme.  The  orders  of  the 
emperor  had  provided  everything  that  could  be  deemed 
necessary;  but  the  observant  delicacy  of  the  empress 
supplied  many  wants  which  might  else  have  been  over- 
looked. Every  day  she  sent  to  inquire  after  his  welfare, 
frequently  visited  and  sometimes  corresponded  with  him. 
The  following  letter,  addressed  to  him,  does  equal  credit 
to  her  head  and  to  her  heart :  — 


BENEVOLENCE. 

The  Empress  to  His  Holiness  Pius  VII. 
"  Whatever  experience  of  human  change  the  knowl- 
edge of  our  religion  may  have  taught,  your  Holiness 
will  view,  doubtless,  not  without  astonishment,  an 
obscure  woman  ready  to  receive  from  your  hands  the 
first  among  the  crowns  of  Europe.  In  an  event  so  far 
beyond  the  ordinary  course,  she  recognizes  and  blesses 
the  work  of  the  Almighty,  without  daring  to  inquire  into 
his  purposes.  But,  holy  father,  I  should  be  ungrateful, 
even  while  I  magnified  the  power  of  God,  if  I  poured 
not  out  my  soul  into  the  paternal  bosom  of  him  who  has 
been  chosen  to  represent  his  providence  —  if  I  confided 
not  to  you  my  secret  thoughts.  The  first  and  chief  of 
these  is  the  conviction  of  my  own  weakness  and  inca- 
pacity. Of  myself  I  can  do  nothing,  or,  to  speak  more 
correctly,  the  little  I  can  do  is  derived  from  that  ex- 
traordinary man  with  whom  my  lot  is  cast.  .  .  .  How 
many  are  the  difficulties  which  surround  the  station  to 
which  he  has  raised  me !  I  do  not  speak  of  the  corrup- 
tion which,  in  the  midst  of  greatness,  has  tainted  the 
purest  minds ;  I  can  rely  upon  my  own  so  far  as,  in  this 
respect,  not  to  fear  elevation.  But  from  a  height  whence 
all  other  dignities  appear  mean,  how  shall  I  distinguish 
real  poverty?  Ah,  truly  do  I  feel  that,  in  becoming 
Empress  of  the  French,  I  ought  also  to  become  to  them 
as  a  mother.  But  of  what  avail  are  intentions  ?  Deeds 
are  what  the  people  have  a  right  to  demand  of  me,  and 
your  Holiness,  who  so  well  replies  to  the  respectful  love 
of  your  subjects  by  continual  acts  of  justice  and  benev- 
olence, more  than  any  other  sovereign  is  qualified  to 
instruct  me.  Oh  !  then,  holy  father,  may  you,  with  the 
sacred  unctions  poured  upon  my  head,  not  only  awaken 
me  to  the  truth  of  these  precepts,  which  my  heart 
23 


266  BENEVOLENCE. 

acknowledges,  but  also  confirm  the  resolution  of  applying 
them  to  pract.ce ! " 

That  these  precepts,  acknowledged  by  Josephine,  were 
acted  up  to  during  her  subsequent  career,  the  history  of 
her  life  abundantly  testifies  ;  but  what  greater  memorial 
of  her  benevolence  could  have  been  afforded,  than  the 
fact  that  her  funeral  procession,  which  was  headed  by 
representatives  of  the  sovereigns  of  Russia  and  Prussia, 
and  was  composed  of  princes,  marshals,  and  generals, 
the  most  celebrated  in  Europe,  was  closed  by  two  thou- 
sand poor,  who  had  voluntarily  come  to  pay  their  last 
tribute  to  the  memory  of  their  benefactor  and  friend  ? 


UNIVERSAL  BENEVOLENCE   OF  WOMAN. 

"  We  are  to  relieve  the  distressed,  to  put  the  wanderer 
into  his  way,  and  to  divide  our  bread  with  the  hungry, 
which  is  but  the  doing  of  good  to  ourselves  ;  for  we  are 
only  several  members  ol  one  great  body."  —  SENECA. 

THE  celebrated  traveller,  Ledyard,  paid  the  following 
handsome  tribute  to  the  female  sex  :  "  I  have  observed," 
he  says,  "  that  women,  in  all  countries,  are  civil,  obliging, 
tender,  and  humane.  I  never  addressed  myself  to  them 
in  the  language  of  decency  and  friendship,  without 
receiving  a  decent  and  friendly  answer.  With  man,  it 
has  often  been  otherwise.  In  wandering  over  the  barren 
plains  of  inhospitable  Denmark;  through  honest  Swe- 
den, and  frozen  Lapland;  rude  and  churlish  Finland; 
unprincipled  Russia  ;  and  the  wide-spread  regions  of  the 
wandering  Tartar ;  if  hungry,  dry,  cold,  wet,  or  sick, 
the  women  have  ever  been  friendly  to  me,  and  uniformly 
$o :  and,  to  add  to  this  virtue,  (so  worthy  the  appellation 


BENEVOLENCE.  261 

of  benevolence,)  these  actions  have  been  performed  in  so 
free  and  kind  a  manner,  that  if  I  was  dry,  I  drank  the 
sweetest  draught ;  and  if  hungry,  ate  the  coarsest  morsel 
with  a  double  relish." 

"  Thus,  in  extremes  of  cold  and  heat, 

Where  wandering  man  may  trace  his  kind ; 
"Wherever  grief  and  want  retreat, 

In  woman  they  compassion  find  ;        » 
She  makes  the  female  breast  her  seat, 

And  dictates  mercy  to  the  mind. 
Man  may  the  sterner  virtues  know, 

Determined  justice,  truth  severe ; 
But  female  hearts  with  pity  glow, 

And  woman  holds  affliction  dear.'  — 


FORTITUDE. 


JOANNA  OF  NAPLES. ANNE    BOLKYN. —  LADY  JANE    GREY.  --  MARY, 

QUEEN  OF  SCOTS. MADAME  DE  MALEZEY. FORTITUDE  IN  ADVER« 

SITT.  — MADAME  ROLAND. 


"  Through  trials  hard  as  these,  how  oft  are  seen 
The  tender  sex,  in  fortitude  serene."  —  ANNA  SEWARD. 

'  Fortitude  is  the  guard  and  support  of  all  the  other  virtues." 

LOCKE. 

"  Nothing  can  be  above  him  that  is  above  fortune." 

SENECA. 

"  FORTITUDE  is  alone  excited  by  exposure  to  those  evila 
which  are  usually  productive  of  the  emotion  of  fear. 
This  firmness  of  the  mind  resists  dangers  and  sufferings, 
and  is  founded  on  a  resolution  of  the  will  to  counteract 
or  surmount  those  cowardly  impressions  which  terrific 
objects  will  infallibly  make  upon  inferior  minds,  and  to 
meet  boldly  the  greatest  dangers  to  which  it  may  be 
exposed." 

"  Stones  are  hard,"  said  Lord  Bolingbroke,  "  and  cakes 
of  ice  are  cold,  and  all  who  feel  them  feel  alike  ;  but  the 
good  or  the  bad  events  which  fortune  brings  upon  us  are 
felt  according  to  the  qualities  that  we,  not  they,  possess. 
They  are,  in  themselves,  indifferent  and  common  acci- 
dents, and  they  acquire  strength  by  nothing  but  our  vice 
or  our  weakness.  Fortune  can  dispense  neither  felicity 
nor  infelicity,  unless  we  cooperate  ivith  her." 


FORTITUDE. 

HEROIC  CONDUCT  OF  JOANNA  OF  NAPLES. 

"  But  inborn  worth  that  fortune  can  control 
New  strung  and  stiffer  bent  her  softer  soul ; 
The  heroine  assumed  the  woman's  place, 
Confirmed  her  mind  and  fortified  her  face."  —  DRYDEX 

JOANNA,  Queen  of  Naples  and  Countess  of  Provence 
who  was  equally  celebrated  for  her  beauty  and  misfor- 
tunes, sustained  the  disastrous  circumstances  of  her  fate 
with  singular  fortitude  and  resolution. 

"  This  queen  had  appointed  Charles  of  Durazzo  to  be 
her  successor  to  the  throne  of  Naples.  From  his  infan- 
cy, the  prince  had  been  treated  with  maternal  kindness 
by  Joanna,  but  scarcely  had  he  attained  years  of  matu- 
rity, when  he  had  the  ingratitude  to  enter  into  the  ser- 
vice of  Louis  of  Hungary,  her  greatest  enemy,  and,  in 
union  with  him,  invaded  the  kingdom  of  Naples  with  a 
powerful  army.  The  Neapolitans,  headed  by  Otho,  their 
king,  made  a  vigorous  resistance ;  but  Charles  and  his 
army,  having  made  that  prince  their  prisoner,  succeeded 
in  forcing  their  way  into  the  capital.  Everything  within 
the  walls  of  the  city  was  confusion  and  tumult :  the 
party  of  the  queen  vainly  strove  against  the  forces  of 
Charles ;  and  such  of  the  minor  gentry  and  nobility  as 
could  effect  their  escape  fled  to  the  surrounding  country. 
Almost  at  the  same  moment  that  intelligence  was  brought 
to  the  queen  of  the  capture  of  her  husband  and  entrance 
of  the  enemy,  a  crowd  of  noble  ladies  and  their  children, 
a  number  of  the  clergy,  and  of  the  most  esteemed  of  the 
elder  nobility,  who  had  spent  their  best  days  in  her  ser- 
vice, appeared  before  Castel  Novo,  in  which  she  resided, 
imploring  admittance. 

"  The  ever-generous  queen  could  not  steel  her  heart 
against  their  supplications,  and  bid  them  retire  to  certain 
23* 


270  FORTITUDE. 

death,  or  horrors  still  more  dreadful  from  the  ferocity  of 
the  soldiery ;  but,  trusting  to  the  speedy  arrival  of  ten 
galleys  from  Provence,  which  were  hourly  expected,  she 
admitted  all  to  share  her  last  asylum,  expecting  soon  ta 
be  enabled  to  take  them  with  her  beyond  the  oppressor'* 
reach. 

"  Thus,  by  what  some  might  call  an  excess  of  com. 
passion,  the  provisions  which  would  have  lasted  the 
garrison  and  the  royal  suite  four  months  were  consumed 
in  one  ;  had  they  held  out  four  days  longer,  Joanna  would, 
in  the  words  of  Boccaccio,  have  again  reigned  triumph- 
antly. 

"  Castel  Novo  was  too  strong  for  Durazzo  to  reduce  it 
by  force  ;  but  patiently  waiting  for  his  prey,  like  the 
crouched  tiger  of  the  forest,  he  trusted  to  the  effects  of 
famine  alone. 

"All  the  hopes  of  Joanna  were  now  placed  on  the 
expected  galleys  from  Provence,  which  weald  have  borne 
her  away  to  present  security ;  but,  delayed  by  some 
unlucky  accident,  they  were  vainly  looked  for  with  strain- 
ing eyes,  from  the  first  dawn  of  day  till  the  last  ray  of 
the  sun  sunk  beneath  those  waves  which  promised  the 
only  means  of  escape. 

"  With  the  queen  were  her  two  nieces,  Joanna  of 
Durazzo,  and  Agnes,  Princess  of  Verona ;  the  former 
inherited  a  large  revenue,  and  had  accumulated  consid- 
erable wealth  by  her  parsimonious  habits.  Previous  to 
the  siege  of  Naples,  she  had  refused  the  queen  a  portion 
of  her  wealth  for  their  mutual  defence,  though  she  was 
in  the  utmost  want  of  money.  But  now,  when,  pinched 
with,  want  and  reduced  to  feed  on  carrion,  they  were  on 
the  verge  of  destruction,  she  too  late  repented  of  her 
avarice,  and  filling  an  immense  vase  with  gold  and  jew- 


FORTITUDE. 


271 


els,  laid  it  at  Joanna's  feet.  The  unfortunate  queen 
smiled  sweetly  but  mournfully  at  the  sight  of  this  ill- 
seasoned  liberality,  and  gently  rejecting  the  useless  offer- 
ing, said  to  the  duchess,  « A  sack  of  wheat  were  more 
precious  to  me  now,  my  fair  niece,  than  all  this  treasure, 
which  you  have  reserved  only  to  fall  into  the  hands  of 
our  common  enemy.' 

"  When  reduced  to  the  last  extremity,  Joanna  sent 
Hugh  Sanseverinesco,  grand  prothonotary  of  the  king- 
dom, to  Durazzo,  to  treat  for  some  truce  or  accommoda- 
tion. Charles,  feeling  an  assurance  that  the  queen  must 
shortly  fall  into  his  hands,  would  grant  no  further  delay 
than  five  days,  at  the  end  of  which  time  she  was  to  sur- 
render the  castle  to  him,  if  not  relieved;  and  that  period 
having  expired,  and  no  succors  yet  appearing  from  Pro- 
vence, Joanna  sent  Hugh  Sanseverinesco  to  tender  her 
surrender  to  Charles. 

"  Durazzo,  shortly  after,  entered  the  castle,  followed  by 
his  guards,  and  found  the  queen  walking  in  the  gardens. 
His  heart  was  not  as  yet  sufficiently  hardened  in  crime 
to  permit  him  to  behold,  without  some  emotion,  the  gen- 
erous princess  who  had  cultivated  his  growing  faculties 
in  youth,  and  had  proffered  him  the  inheritance  of  the 
crown  she  wore.  A  momentary  feeling  of  shame  abashed 
him  in  her  presence;  and  such  was  the  force  of  habit, 
that  though  they  had  changed  their  relative  situations 
since  they  had  last  met,  he  knelt  at  her  feet  with  the 
same  marks  of  respect  as  in  the  plenitude  of  her  glory. 
'  I  will  not  enumerate  the  benefits  I  have  conferred  on 
you.'  said  Joanna,  addressing  the  ungrateful  prince  ;  '  it 
would  ill  become  a  captive  to  humiliate  her  conqueror 
neaven  and  earth  behold  us,  and  will  judge  between  us. 
Remember  only  my  regal  dignity,  (if  anything  sacred 


272  FORTITUDE. 

can  still  find  place  in  your  memory,)  and  treat  my  hus- 
band with  the  respect  due  to  a  prince  of  his  rank.' 

"  Durazzo  eagerly  renewed  his  hollow  protestations  of 
love  and  reverence,  assuring  the  queen  he  would  never 
have  dispossessed  her  of  a  throne  he  rather  wished  her 
to  keep,  had  he  not  seen  that  Otho  was  preparing  to 
dispute  it  with  him  in  case  of  her  death  —  an  excuse  as 
shallow  as  false,  as  the  queen  and  her  husband  were  of 
the  same  age,  and  nature,  prodigal  of  her  favors,  had 
endowed  the  former  with  a  strength  of  constitution  that 
promised  length  of  days. 

"  The  feelings  of  Joanna,  on  receiving  these  professions, 
may  easily  be  imagined ;  but  commanding  her  indigna- 
tion, with  her  usual  majesty  and  eloquence,  she  again 
enjoined  him  to  respect  the  memory  of  Prince  Otho,  and 
besought  his  mercy  for  the  captives  in  the  castle. 

"  On  the  first  news  of  Durazzo's  rebellion,  Joanna  had 
altered  the  succession  to  her  dominions  in  favor  of  Louis 
of  Anjou ;  and  although  he  had  forcibly  seized  the  king- 
dom of  Naples,  the  rich  inheritance  of  Provence  and 
Piedmont  was  not  to  be  obtained,  unless  Joanna  could 
be  deluded  or  intimidated  into  nominating  him  her  heir ; 
and,  in  this  hope,  her  life  was,  for  a  time,  respected. 

"  On  the  fourth  day  after  her  capture,  the  arrival  of 
the  long-expected  Proven§al  galleys,  as  unavailing  now 
as  the  ill-timed  gifts  of  the  Duchess  de  Durazzo,  added 
a  fresh  pang  to  the  anguish  of  her  feelings.  On  their 
arrival,  Charles  once  more  stooped  to  flatter  and  to  fawn 
on  the  woman  whom  his  treachery  had  undone.  He 
repaired  to  the  queen,  and  with  that  smooth  speech  and 
placid  demeanor  for  which  he  was  distinguished,  renewed 
all  his  professions,  and  humbly  supplicated  her  to  nomi- 
nate him  the  heir  lot  only  to  that  kingdom  of  which  he 


FORTITUDE.  273 

had  possessed  himself  by  force,  but  of  Provence,  and 
entreated  her  to  command  the  Proven§al  troops  to  land 
as  friends. 

"  The  disposition  of  Joanna  had  originally  been  con- 
fiding, almost  to  a  fault,  in  those  she  loved ;  but  the 
perfidy  of  Durazzo  had  been  too  flagrant,  his  ingratitude 
too  monstrous,  for  her  now  to  place  any  reliance  on  his 
promises.  She  knew  that  any  instrument  she' might 
sign  in  his  favor  would  consign  her  to  endless  captivity, 
if  not  to  more  welcome  death.  The  experience  of  all 
history  had  shown  her  that  the  prison  of  princes  was 
but  the  vestibule  of  their  tomb,  and,  magnanimously 
awaiting  her  inevitable  fate,  she  resolved  to  remain  firm 
to  her  engagement  with  Louis  of  Anjou. 

"  Deceived  by  the  composure  of  her  manner  and  coun- 
tenance, and  hoping  all  he  wished  from  the  timidity  that 
he  believed  was  inherent  in  her  sex,  Charles  acceded  to 
her  request  to  grant  a  safe  conduct  to  a  few  deputies 
from  the  French  ships. 

"On  the  entrance  of  the  Count  of  Caserta  and  the 
Provengal  barons,  Joanna  addressed  them  in  the  follow- 
ing words  :  '  Neither  the  conduct  of  my  ancestors,  nor 
the  oaths  of  fidelity  I  myself  received  with  my  crown 
from  the  county  of  Provence,  should  have  permitted  you 
to  delay  so  long  to  succor  me ;  that,  after  having  suffered 
the  extremity  of  want  and  hardships,  not  only  grievous 
to  weak  women,  but  difficult  to  be  endured  by  the  most 
robust  soldier  —  after  having  been  reduced  even  to  feed 
on  the  putrescent  flesh  of  the  vilest  animals,  I  have  been 
constrained  to  deliver  myself  into  the  hands  of  a  crueJ 
enemy. 

" '  But  if  this  has  happened,  as  I  believe  it  has,  from 
negligence,  and  not  from  malice,  I  here  conjure  you,  if 


274  FORTITUDE. 

any  spark  of  affection  remain  in  your  hearts  for  me,  any 
reverence  for  your  oaths  of  allegiance,  any  remembrance 
of  benefits  received  from  me,  never,  in  any  manner,  ot 
at  any  distance  of  time,  to  acknowledge  as  your  lord  that 
ungrateful  robber,  who,  from  a  queen,  has  made  me  a 
captive  slave. 

"  '  If  ever  it  shall  be  told  you  that  I  have  constituted 
him  my  heir,  believe  it  not ;  any  writings  that  may  be 
shown  you,  hold  them  false,  or  forced  from  me  against 
my  consent. 

"'My  will  is,  that  you  own  for  your  lord  Louis, 
Duke  of  Anjou,  not  only  in  Provence  and  other  ultra- 
montane states,  but  in  this  kingdom  also,  where  I  have 
appointed  him  my  heir  and  champion,  to  revenge  this 
treason  and  violence.  To  him,  then,  go  and  render 
obedience.  Take  no  more  thought  for  me,  but  to  per- 
form my  funeral  service  and  pray  for  my  soul.  And 
whosoever  of  you  has  most  remembrance  of  my  love  for 
your  nation,  most  pity  for  a  queen  fallen  into  such  great 
calamity,  let  him  avenge  my  death  in  arms,  or  address 
himself  to  God  in  prayer  for  my  soul.  This  I  not  only 
entreat  you,  but,  as  you  are  even  at  this  moment  still 
my  vassals,  I  command  you.' 

"The  Provencals,  with  bitter  tears,  excused  their 
seeming  negligence,  and  showing  intense  grief  at  her 
captivity,  promised  to  obey  her  commands,  and  returned 
to  their  galleys.  The  Count  of  Caserta  returned  with 
them,  resolved  as  faithfully  to  follow  her  last  injunctions 
as  he  had  followed  her  fortunes  in  every  vicissitude. 

"  On  the  departure  of  the  French  barons,  Durazzo 
returned  to  the  queen  to  hear  the  result  of  their  con- 
ference, when  she  herself  informed  him  that  she  had 
performed  her  last  act  of  sovereignty  as  honor  de« 


FORTITUUE.  275 

manded.  The  melancholy  forebodings  of  the  unfortu- 
nate Joanna  were  speedily  realized,  for  Charles,  finding 
that  he  had  failed  in  deluding  her  into  his  measures, 
resolved  to  try  the  effect  of  harsh  treatment,  and  sent 
her,  under  a  strong  guard,  to  the  Castle  of  Muro,  —  a 
place  which,  from  its  situation,  was  out  of  the  reach  of 
all  those  who  might  wish  to  befriend  her  in  her  fallen 
fortunes. 

"During  eight  months,  all  the  miseries  of  a  harsh 
captivity  were  inflicted  on  Joanna,  in  hopes  that  the 
privations  she  suffered  might  compel  her  to  purchase 
some  amelioration  of  her  condition  by  the  cession  of 
Provence;  but,  constant  to  her  resolution,  the  only  fruits 
of  these  measures  was  a  new  testament  made  in  prison, 
confirming  her  former  grant  to  Louis  of  Anjou.  The 
cruel  murder  of  the  unfortunate  queen  terminated  this 
melancholy  period  of  suffering,  and  closed  an  existence 
which  must  have  become  infinitely  worse  than  death." 


TRIAL  AND  DEATH  OF  ANNE   BOLEYN. 
"  Oh !  world,  thy  slippery  turns  ! "  —  SHAKSPEARE. 

THE  unfortunate  Queen  Anne  Boleyn  having  become 
the  bar  to  the  felicity  of  the  capricious  Henry  the  Eighth, 
whose  affections  had  been  suddenly  transferred  to  Jane 
Seymour,  was  committed  to  the  Tower,  impeached, 
brought  to  trial,  condemned  without  evidence,  and  exe- 
cuted without  remorse.  "History  affords  no  reason  to 
call  her  innocence  in  question ;  and  the  king,  by  marry- 
ing her  known  rival  the  day  after  her  execution,  made 
the  motives  of  his  conduct  sufficiently  evident,  and  left 
the  world  in  little  doubt  of  the  iniquity  of  her  sentence. 


276  FORTITUDE. 

"  If  further  arguments  should  be  thought  necessary  in 
support  of  the  innocence  of  the  unfortunate  Anne,  her 
serenity,  and  even  cheerfulness,  while  under  confinement 
and  sentence  of  death,  ought  to  have  its  weight,  as  it  is 
perhaps  unexampled,  and  could  not  well  be  the  associate 
of  guilt.  «  Never  prince,'  says  she,  in  a  letter  to  Henry, 
'  had  wife  more  loyal  in  all  duty,  and  in  all  true  affection, 
than  you  have  ever  found  in  Anne  Boleyn ;  with  which 
name  and  place  I  could  willingly  have  contented  myself, 
if  God  and  your  grace  had  been  so  pleased  ;  neither  did 
I  at  any  time  so  forget  myself  in  my  exaltation,  or  received 
queenship,  butlhat  I  always  looked  for  such  an  altera- 
tion as  I  now  find ;  for  the  ground  of  my  preferment 
being  no  surer  foundation  than  your  grace's  fancy,  the 
least  alteration,  I  knew,  was  fit  and  sufficient  to  draw  that 
fancy  to  some  other  object.' 

"In  another  letter  she  says:  'You have  raised  me 
from  a  private  gentlewoman  to  a  marchioness ;  from  a 
marchioness  to  a  queen ;  and  since  you  can  exalt  me  no 
higher  in  this  world,  you  are  resolved  to  send  me  to 
heaven,  that  I  may  become  a  saint ! ' 

"  After  her  condemnation,  no  dejection  was  visible  in 
Anne's  deportment ;  even  in  hearing  of  her  brother's 
death  she  betrayed  no  violent  emotions.  When  her  days 
were  numbered,  she  seemed  to  have  lost  sight  of  care 
ind  sorrow ;  much  of  her  time  was  spent  in  devotion ; 
it  intervals  she  conversed  with  her  wonted  grace  and 
animation,  occasionally  quoting  her  favorite  passages  of 
poetry.  She  had  no  personal  communication  with  her 
parents ;  it  is  possible  she  did  not  wish  for  the  pain  of 
bidding  them  an  eternal  farewell;  but  she  must  have 
passionately  desired  to  behold  once  more  the  face  of  her 
beloved  child,  for  whose  future  welfare  she  continued  to 


FORTITUDE.  277 

feel  the  most  tender  solicitude.  On"  the  evening  previous 
to  her  execution,  she  prostrated  herself  before  Lady 
Kingston,  deploring  the  rigor  with  which  she  had  some- 
times treated  the  Princess  Mary,  and  conjuring  that  lady, 
in  her  name,  to  supplicate  forgiveness  of  the  step-daugh- 
ter whom  she  had  offended.  In  making  this  solicitation, 
her  mind  was  probably  impressed  with  apprehensions  for 
Elizabeth,  over  whom  Jane  Seymour  was  so  soon  to 
assume  maternal  authority.  Till  midnight  she  com- 
muned with  her  almoner.  At  an  early  hour  she  rose, 
with  a  serene  aspect,  conversing  with  as  much  ease  as  if 
she  had  been  indifferent  to  the  approaching  event. 
Kingston  himself  was  astonished  at  her  deportment, 
declaring  that  he  had  seen  many  die,  but  never  before 
saw  any  who  rejoiced  in  death.  In  the  course  of  the 
morning,  she  even  rallied  on  her  approaching  execution ; 
but  this  occasional  pleasantry  did  not  suspend  her  serious 
reflections ;  and  she  requested  Kingston  to  be  present 
when  she  received  the  sacrament,  that  he  might  attest 
her  protestations  of  innocence.  She  afterwards  expressed 
her  regret  that  she  had  yet  some  hours  to  live,  declaring 
'  that  she  longed  for  the  happy  moment  of  emancipation 
and  triumph.'  Nor  did  her  resolution  falter  as  that  time 
approached;  when,  by  a  prudent  precaution  of  Kingston, 
strangers  were  dismissed  from  the  Tower,  and  not  more 
than  thirty  persons  admitted  to  witness  the  catastrophe. 
By  one  of  those  few  spectators,  Anne  Boleyn  is  stated  to 
have  approached  the  fatal  spot  with  perfect  composure ; 
that  her  countenance  was  cheerful,  and  retained  all  its 
wonted  preeminence  and  beauty.  At  this  moment 
superior  to  selfish  fears  or  unavailing  regrets,  she 
advanced,  surrounded  by  weeping  attendants,  whom  she 
vainly  attempted  to  reconcile  to  her  destiny.  Among 
24 


278  FORTITUDE. 

these,  the  most  cherished  was  Wiatt's  sister,  with  whom 
Anne  continued  in  earnest  conversation,  and,  at  parting 
presented  to  her,  with  a  benignant  smile,  a  small  manu- 
script prayer-book,  which  the  afflicted  friend  was  ever 
after  accustomed  to  wear  in  her  bosom  as  a  sacred  relic 
of  imperishable  attachment.  To  her  other  companions 
she'  made  the  same  bequest,  beseeching  them  not  to 
grieve  because  she  was  thus  doomed  to  die,  but  to 
pardon  her  for  not  having  always  addressed  them  with 
becoming  mildness ;  then  ascending  the  scaffold,  she  thus 
addressed  the  witnesses  of  her  death,  with  a  calm  and 
even  smiling  countenance  :  — 

'"Friends,  and  good  Christian  people,  I  am  here  in 
your  presence  to  suffer  death,  whereto  I  acknowledge 
myself  adjudged  by  law,  —  how  justly,  I  will  not  say;  I 
intend  not  an  accusation  of  any  one.  I  beseech  the 
Almighty  to  preserve  his  Majesty  long  to  reign  over 
you:  a  more  gentle  or  mild  prince  never  swayed 
sceptre.  His  bounty  towards  me  hath  been  special.  If 
any  one  intend  an  inquisitive  survey  of  my  actions,  I 
entreat  them  to  judge  favorably  of  me,  and  not  rashly 
to  admit  any  censorious  conceit ;  and  so  I  bid  the  world 
farewell,  beseeching  you  to  commend  me  in  your  prayers 
to  God.'  This  speech  she  uttered  with  a  smiling  coun- 
tenance ;  then  uncovering  her  neck,  she  knelt  down,  and 
fervently  ejaculated,  '  To  Jesus  Christ  I  commend  my 
soul ! '  But  though  her  head  was  meekly  submitted  to 
the  axe,  the  intrepidity  with  which  she  refused  the  ban- 
dage for  some  time  delayed  the  accomplishment  of  her 
sentence ;  the  touching  expression  of  her  eyes  disarmed 
even  her  executioner,  and  it  was  at  length  by  stratagem 
that  he  seized  the  moment  for  giving  the  stroke  of  death. 
An  exclamation  of  anguish  burst  from  the  spectators, 


FORTITUDE.  279 

which  was  quickly  overpowered  by  the  discharge  of 
artillery  announcing  the  event,  —  the  last  royal  honor 
offered  to  the  memory  of  Anne  Boleyn. 

"  Although  hei  remains  were  left  to  neglect,  her 
charities  could  not  be  consigned  to  oblivion ;  her  munifi- 
cence was  her  monument;  her  expanded  sympathies,  her 
open-handed  bounty,  her  enlightened  beneficence,  all 
conspired  to  fix  on  Henry's  ferocious  despotism  an 
indelible  stain  of  infamy ;  and  the  enthusiasm  which 
accompanied  Elizabeth  to  the  throne  was,  in  part  at 
least,  a  tribute  of  gratitude  and  tenderness  to  the  ill-fated 
Anne  Boleyn." 

EXECUTION  OF  LADY  JANE  GREY. 

"  Oh,  how  this  spring  of  love  resembleth 

The  uncertain  glory  of  an  April  day  ; 
Which  now  shows  all  the  beauty  of  the  sun, 
And  by  and  by  a  cloud  takes  all  away." 

SHAKSPEARE. 

"  LADY  JANE  GREY,  having  unhappily  been  persuaded 
to  accept  the  crown  of  England,  settled  on  her  by  a  deed 
of  Edward  the  Sixth,  became,  with  her  husband,  Lord 
Guildford  Dudley,  to  whom  she  had  only  been  married 
a  few  months  before,  the  innocent  victims  of  the  unre- 
lenting Mary.  When  that  princess  was  seated  on  the 
throne  which  her  unfortunate  cousin  had  retained  but 
for  a  few  days,  she  sent  orders  to  Lady  Jane  to  prepare 
for  death.  Young,  beautiful,  and  accomplished,  above 
all,  tenderly  attached  to  her  husband,  whose  amiable 
qualities  had  deservedly  gained  her  affections,  Lady 
Jane  nevertheless  heard  her  sentence  with  composure, 
and  prepared  to  meet  her  fate  with  magnanimity. 

"  On  the  day  of  execution,  her  husband  desired  per- 
mission  to  see  her ;  but  she  refused  her  consent,  inform 


280  FORTITUDE. 

ing  him,  by  a  message,  that  the  tenderness  of  theit 
parting  would  overcome  the  fortitude  of  both,  and  would 
too  much  unbind  their  minds  from  that  constancy  which 
their  approaching  end  required  of  them.  '  Their  sepa- 
ration,' she  said,  '  would  be  only  for  a  few  moments,  and 
they  would  soon  regain  each  other  in  a  scene  where 
their  affections  would  be  forever  united,  and  where 
3eath,  disappointment,  and  misfortunes,  could  no  longer 
have  access  to  them,  or  disturb  their  felicity.'  The 
queen  had  given  directions  for  executing  Lady  Jane  and 
her  husband  together,  but  the  council,  dreading  that  the 
compassion  of  the  people  might  be  excited  by  their 
youth,  beauty,  and  innocence,  gave  directions  that  Lady 
Jane  should  be  beheaded  within  the  verge  of  the  Tower. 
From  her  window  she  beheld  Lord  Guildford  conducted 
to  execution,  when,  having  given  him  some  token  of  her 
remembrance,  she  awaited  her  own  fate  with  tranquil 
firmness.  On  her  way  to  the  scaffold,  whether  through 
malice  or  inadvertence,  she  was  met  by  his  lifeless 
body.  She  stopped  a  few  moments  to  gaze  upon  it, 
then,  heaving  a  deep  sigh,  bade  the  bearers  proceed, 
expressing  herself  more  confirmed  by  the  reports  of  the 
constancy  of  his  last  moments,  than  shaken  by  the  mel- 
ancholy spectacle.  Even  at  the  scaffold,  her  fortitude 
did  not  forsake  her,  and  she  addressed  the  weeping  mul- 
titude with  great  composure.  She  confessed  herself 
guilty,  not  of  usurping  the  crown,  but  of  not  more  firmly 
refusing  it,  and  she  mildly  hoped  her  -death  would 
restore  tranquillity  to  the  state.  She  then  meekly  laid 
her  head  on  the  block,  and  one  blow  terminated  her  suf- 
ferings, and  the  power  of  her  enemies  over  her. 

"  Thus   perished  an    innocent  and    accomplished  fe 
male,   of  eighteen  years  of  age,  who  for  simplicity  of 


FORTITUDE.  281 

manners,  purity  of  heart,  and  extensive  leaining,  was 
scarcely  ever  equalled  in  any  age  or  country.  As  Ful- 
ier  justiy  observes,  she  united  the  innocency  of  child- 
hood, the  beauty  of  youth,  the  solidity  of  middle  life, 
and  the  gravity  of  old  age.  'She' had  the  birth  of 
a  princess,  the  learning  of  a  divine,  and  the  life  of  a 
saint ;  and  yet  suffered  the  death  of  a  malefactor  for  the 
offences  of  her  parents.' 

"  In  the  apartment  in  which  Lady  Jane  was  confined 
in  the  Tower,  the  following  Latin  lines  were  found  in- 
scribed by  her  on  the  wall  with  a  pin,  or  some  othor 
»harp  instrument. 

"  Non  aliena  putes,  homini  quae  obtingere  possunt : 
Sors  hodierna  mihi,  eras  erit  ilia  tibi."  —  JANE  DUDLEY 

PARAPHRASED. 

"  Think  not,  0  mortal !  vainly  gay, 

That  thou  from  human  woes  art  free  ; 
The  bitter  cup  I  drink  to-day 
To-morrow  may  be  drank  by  thee ! " 

"  Deo  juvante,  nil  nocet  livor  malus ; 
Et  non  juvante,  nil  juvat  labor  gravis ; 
Post  tenebras  spero  lucem."  —  JANE  DTTDLIT 

PARAPHRASED. 

"  Harmless  all  malice,  if  our  God  be  nigh  ; 
Fruitless  all  pains,  if  he  his  help  deny. 
Patient  I  pass  these  gloomy  hours  away, 
And  wait  the  morning  of  eternal  day  ! " 


DEATH   OF   MARY,  QUEEN  OF   SCOTS. 
"  To-day  on  a  throne,  to-morrow  in  a  prison." 

"  THE  beautiful  and  ill-fated  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots, 
received  her  sentence  of  death  with  great  composure ; 
saying  to  those  by  whom  it  was  announced,  '  The  newi 
24* 


282  FORTITUDE. 

you  bring  cannot  but  be  most  welcome,  since  the} 
announce  the  termination  of  my  miseries.  Nor  dn 
account  that  soul  to  be  deserving  of  the  felicities  ot 
immortality,  which  can  shrink  under  the  sufferings  of 
the  body,  or  scruple  at  the  stroke  that  sets  it  free.'  On 
the  evening  before  her  execution,  for  which,  on  the  suc- 
ceeding morn,  she  prepared  herself  with  religious  solem- 
nity and  perfect  resignation,  she  ordered  all  her  servants 
to  appear  before  her,  and  drank  to  them.  She  even  con- 
descended to  beg  their  pardon  for  her  omissions  or  neg- 
lects; and  she  recommended  it  to  them  to  love  charity, 
to  avoid  the  unhappy  passions  of  hatred  and  malice,  and 
to  preserve  themselves  steadfast  in  the  faith  of  Christ. 
She  then  distributed  among  them  her  money,  her  jew- 
els, and  her  clothes,  according  to  their  rank  or  merit. 
She  wrote  her  will  with  her  own  hand,  constituting  the 
Duke  of  Guise  her  principal  executor ;  and  to  the  King 
and  Queen  of  France  she  recommended  her  son,  pro- 
vided he  should  prove  worthy  of  their  esteem.  Mary 
was  beheaded  in  the  Castle  of  Fotheringay,  on  the  8th 
of  February,  1587,  in  the  45th  year  of  her  age,  after 
a  close  imprisonment  of  nineteen  years,  during  which, 
under  a  most  unparalleled  complication  of  misfortunes, 
she  preserved  the  magnanimity  of  a  queen,  and  practised 
with  sincerity  the  duties  of  a  Christian.  Her  body,  after 
being  embalmed  and  committed  to  a  leaden  coffin,  was 
buried  with  royal  pomp  and  splendor  in  the  cathedral  in 
Peterborough.  Twenty  years  afterwards,  her  bones 
were,  by  order  of  her  son  and  only  child,  King  James  the 
First,  removed  to  Westminster,  and  deposited  in  their 
proier  place  among  the  Kings  of  England.'* 


FOUTITUDE.  285 

FORTITUDE  OF  LIADAME  DE  MALEZEY. 

"  With  affections  warm,  intense,  refined, 
She  mixed  such  calm  and  holy  strength  of  mind, 
That,  like  heaven's  image  in  the  smiling  brook, 
Celestial  peace  was  pictured  in  her  look."  —  CAMPBELL. 

IN  the  midst  of  the  dreadful  scenes  of  the  French 
Revolution,  women  submitted  to  their  melancholy  fate 
with  unshaken  fortitude,  and  by  the  examples  of  courage 
and  resignation  they  displayed,  animated  with  a  similar 
heroism  their  unfortunate  companions  in  affliction. 

"  Madame  de  Malezey,  with  her  father,  mother,  and 
sister,  was  engaged  in  reading  Seneca  on  the  shortness 
of  life,  when  she  was  summoned  before  the  Revolution- 
ary Tribunal.  She  saw  the  act  of  accusation  delivered 
also  to  her  parents  and  sister,  and  having  embraced 
them,  she  courageously  led  the  way  to  a  gallery  where 
a  number  of  accused  persons  were  assembled,  waiting 
their  call  before  the  tribunal.  The  attention  of  Madame 
de  Malezey  was  instantly  attracted  by  an  old  man,  who, 
yielding  to  the  desire  of  life  and  a  horror  of  his  impend- 
ing destruction,  shed  torrents  of  tears.  '  What ! '  said 
Madame  de  Malezey,  'are  you  a  man,  and  do  you 
weep?  I  have  not  less  reason  for  affliction  than  you; 
I  am  the  mother  of  a  family,  and  am  separated  from  my 
children  till  we  meet  in  a  better  world.  Yet,  behold ! 
these  are  my  father,  my  mother,  and  my  sister;  they 
are  going  also  to  death ;  and  shall  I  weep  for  an  event 
that  leads  me  from  this  scene  of  misery  and  injustice,  to 
unite  us  where  sorrow  and  parting  shall  be  no  more  ?' 

"  All  the  persons  in  the  gallery  now  crowded  round 
ivladame  de  Malezey,  eager  to  receive  the  consolation 
which  her  resignation  and  fortitude  could  not  fail  to 
inspire.  Tt.e  old  man,  in  particular,  dried  his  tears, 


284  FORTITUDE. 

and  regarded  her  as  an  angel  sent  from  Heaven  to  saw. 
him  from  the  bitterness  of  despair. 

"Madame  de  Malezey  continued  to  possess  hei 
courage,  and  to  give  the  same  lively  instances  of  affec- 
tion towards  her  parents,  after  their  mutual  condemna- 
tion. While  they  waited  in  the  apartment  from  whence 
they  were  to  be  conducted  to  the  scaffold,  she  produced 
a  pair  of  scissors  which  she  had  kept  concealed,  and 
approaching  her  mother,  said,  '  Allow  me  to  cut  off  your 
hair,  madam ;  such  an  office  better  suits  a  daughter  than 
an  executioner.'  She  rendered  the  same  service  to  her 
father  and  sister,  and  then  presenting  the  scissors  to  the 
latter,  entreated  she  would  perform  the  like  friendly  act 
for  her,  as  the  last  token  of  their  attachment. 

"  With  equal  firmness  and  intrepidity  of  soul,  Madame 
de  Malezey  approached  the  place  of  execution,  ascended 
the  scaffold,  and  yielded  herself  to  the  stroke  of  death." 

A  MIND  SUPERIOR  TO  MISFORTUNE. 

"  Our  purses  shall  be  proud,  our  garments  poor ; 
For  't  is  the  mind  that  makes  the  body  rich : 
And,  as  the  sun  breaks  through  the  darkest  clouds, 
So  honor  peereth  in  the  meanest  habit. 
"What !  is  the  jay  more  precious  than  the  lark, 
Because  his  feathers  are  more  beautiful  ? 
Or,  is  the  adder  better  than  the  eel, 
Because  his  painted  skin  contents  the  eye  ?  " 

SHAKSPEARE. 

THE  conduct  of  a  French  woman  at  this  disastrous 
period,  when  the  Revolution  involved  hundreds  of  fami- 
lies in  misery  and  ruin,  displayed  much  strength  of  mind 
and  fortitude. 

"  Her  family,  consisting  of  her  husband  and  five  chil- 
dren, pined  in  want,  in  a  small  cottage  at  the  extremity 
of  a  town.  They  had  formerly  been  opulent,  and  the 


FORTITUDE.  285 

father,  whose  temper  was  violent,  supported  his  misfor 
tune  with  an  ir.ipatience  difficult  to  express.  He  fre- 
quently considered  whether  he  should  not  put  an  end  to 
his  life.  His  wife,  observing  the  agitation  of  his  mind, 
and  knowing  him  capable  of  a  rash  act,  meditated  on 
the  means  of  withdrawing  him  from  his  project.  But 
the  difficulty  was  to  find  motives  sufficiently  strong.  His 
affection  for  herself  and  his  children  w£ts  rather  calculated 
to  push  him  to  extremity ;  for  it  was  evident,  he  never 
thought  on  them  without  anguish  bordering  on  despair. 
To  propose  to  him  to  have  recourse  to  the  charity  of  his 
neighbors,  she  knew  would  wound  his  pride,  which  was 
excessive.  Besides,  she  was  not  certain  of  the  success  of 
that  expedient ;  and  she  knew  that  a  refusal  would  be  a 
thousand  times  more  cruel  than  any  species  of  torture. 
Even  the  resource  of  consolation  was  not  left  her,  for  her 
husband  would  not  listen  to  any  topic  that  might  afford 
hope,  but  impatiently  pressed  her  to  die  with  him,  and 
to  persuade  their  children  to  the  same  resolution.  Sur- 
rounded by  so  many  subjects  of  discouragement,  the  wife 
never  abandoned  herself  to  despair.  One  idea  arose  in 
her  mind,  which  she  expressed  to  her  husband  with  so 
much  tenderness  and  courage,  that  it  almost  instantly 
restored  his  mind  to  tranquillity. 

"  '  All  is  not  lost,'  she  said  ;  '  I  have  health,  and  our 
five  ch.  tiren  also.  Let  us  leave  this  town,  and  retire  to 
some  place  where  we  are  not  known,  and  I  and  my  chil- 
dren will  labor  to  support  their  father.'  She  added, 
that  if  their  labor  was  insufficient,  she  would  privately 
beg  alms  for  his  support.  The  husband  ruminated 
a  while  over  this  proposition,  and  took  his  resolution 
with  a  constancy  worthy  of  the  honorable  life  he 
ifter  led. 


286  FORTITUDE. 

" '  No,'  he  said, '  I  will  not  reduce  you  to  the  disgrace 
of  beggary  for  me ;  but  since  you  are  capable  of  such 
attachment  to  me,  I  know  what  remains  to  render  me 
worthy  of  it.' 

"  He  then  lost  no  time  in  collecting  together  the  rem- 
nants of  his  property,  which  produced  a  hundred  pistoles, 
and  quitted  the  town  with  his  family,  taking  the  road  to 
a  distant  department ;  and  in  the  first  place  where  he 
thought  he  was  not  known,  he  changed  his  dress  for  the 
coarse  attire  of  a  peasant,  making  his  whole  family  do 
the  same ;  and,  continuing  his  route,  arrived  at  a  town 
which  he  thought  fit  for  his  purpose :  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  which,  he  hired  a  cabin,  with  a  field,  and  a 
small  vineyard.  He  then  bought  some  wool  and  flax  to 
employ  the  girls,  and  tools,  to  cultivate  the  land,  for 
himself  and  the  boys,  the  use  of  which  he  hired  a  person 
to  teach  him. 

"  A  few  weeks  sufficed  to  conquer  all  difficulties.  The 
example  of  the  father  and  mother  excited  emulation 
among  the  children,  and  acquiring  a  competence  from 
its  labor  and  constancy,  originating  in  the  courage  and 
fortitude  of  this  virtuous  woman,  the  whole  family  lived 
from  that  time  in  perfect  peace  and  domestic  union." 

COURAGE   AND  FORTITUDE   OF  MADAME  ROLAND. 

"  It  is  a  masterpiece  to  draw  good  out  of  evil,  and  by  the 
nelp  of  virtue  to  improve  misfortunes  into  blessings." 

SENECA. 

THE  extraordinary  fortitude  Madame  Roland,  wife  of 
the  ex-minister  of  that  name,  displayed  during  the  series 
of  her  misfortunes,  deserves  to  be  mentioned  here ;  for  it 
is,  perhaps,  more  by  her  courage  than  any  other  quality 
that  this  celebrated  woman  has  merited  the  eulogiums 


FORTITUDE.  287 

which  have  been  lavished  upon  her.  The  following  is 
the  account  she  has  herself  given  of  her  first  impnson- 
mer  t :  — 

"When  I  found  myself  enclosed  within  four  dirty 
walls,  saw  a  miserable  bed,  without  curtains,  and  a 
doubly  grated  window,  and  was  assailed  also  with  that 
disagreeable  smell  which  a  person  accustomed  to  cleanly 
apartments  always  finds  in  those  that  are  dirty,  I  felt, 
indeed,  that  I  was  in  a  prison :  yet,  resolved  to  accommo- 
date myself  as  much  as  possible  to  my  circumstances,  I 
derived  some  pleasure  from  observing  that  my  chamber 
was  sufficiently  roomy ;  that  it  had  a  fire-place  ;  that  the 
covering  of  the  bed  was  tolerable  j  that  I  was  supplied 
with  a  pillow :  I  forbore  to  make  comparisons,  and  deemed 
myself  not  badly  accommodated.  In  this  temper  I  went 
to  bed,  and  resolved  to  remain  in  it  as  long  as  I  found 
myself  at  ease  :  I  had  not  even  left  my  bed  at  ten  the 
next  morning,  when  my  counsellor  arrived.  He  was 
still  more  affected  by  my  situation  than  on  the  preceding 
evening,  and  he  surveyed  my  deplorable  chamber,  —  with 
which  I  was  already  satisfied,  because  I  had  slept  well, 
—  with  visible  agitation. 

"  The  commotion  among  the  people  was,  at  that  time, 
very  great ;  the  drums  were  frequently  beating  to  arms, 
and  I  was  ignorant  of  what  was  passing  out  of  doors. 

"  '  The  tyrants  shall  not,'  said  I  to  myself,  '  prevent 
my  making  the  most  of  my  life,  to  my  last  moment; 
more  happy  in  the  satisfaction  of  my  own  conscience 
than  they  can  be  in  the  enjoyment  of  their  fury.  If  they 
come  to  put  me  to  death,  I  wi]l  go  forward  to  meet  them; 
and  I  shall  quit  life  as  one  who  enters  a  state  of  repose.' 

"  When  I  went  down  to  the  apartment  of  the  keeper's 
wife,  I  found  my  faithful  nurse ;  she  threw  herself  into 


288  FORTITUDE. 

my  arms,  drowned  in  tears,  and  choked  in  sobs ;  * 
myself  melted  into  sorrow,  reproaching  myself  for  the 
tranquillity  I  had  enjoyed,  while  those  who  were  attached 
to  me  were  afflicted  with  the  most  anxious  alarms ;  and, 
picturing  to  myself  successively  the  anxiety  of  one  per- 
son and  another,  I  felt  an  indescribable  oppression  at  my 
heart. 

"I  never  was  accustomed  to  be  expensive  in  what 
regards  my  personal  enjoyments,  and  I  have  even  a 
pleasure  in  exercising  my  courage  in  any  accidental  pri- 
vation. A  passion  seized  me  now  to  make  an  experi- 
ment, to  discover  in  what  degree  the  power  of  the  mind 
can  narrow  the  wants  of  man.  At  the  end  of  four  days,  I 
began  to  reduce  the  quality  of  my  breakfast,  and,  instead 
of  coffee  or  chocolate,  to  take  bread  and  water :  I  ordered 
a  small  plate  of  some  simple  dish,  with  vegetables,  for 
my  dinner,  and  in  the  evening  a  few  vegetables,  without 
any  dessert.  I  first  drank  small  beer  in  lieu  of  wine,  and 
then  I  discontinued  the  beer.  As  this  economy  had  a 
moral  object,  and  as  I  equally  disliked  and  despised  a 
frugality  that  had  no  other  end  than  to  save,  I  appro- 
priated a  sum  for  the  poorer  sort  in  the  prison,  that  1 
might  have  the  pleasure,  while  I  ate  my  dry  bread  in 
the  morning,  to  reflect  that  they  would  have  a  better 
dinner  for  my  privations." 

"  When  Madame  Koland  arrived  at  the  Conciergerie," 
says  the  author  of  the  "  Memoirs  of  a  Prisoner,"  "  the 
blood  of  the  twenty-two  deputies  still  flowed  on  the  spot. 
Though  she  well  comprehended  the  fate  which  awaited 
her,  her  firmness  did  not  forsake  her.  Although  past 
the  prime  of  life,  she  was  a  fine  woman,  tall,  and  of  an 
elegant  form  :  an  expression  infinitely  superior  to  what 
is  usually  found  in  women  was  seen  in  her  large  black 


FORTITUDE. 

eyes,  at  once  forcible  and  mild.  She  frequently  spoke 
from  her  window  to  those  without,  with  the  extent  and 
greatness  of  mind  of  a  man  of  the  first  order  of  talent. 
Sometimes,  however,  the  susceptibility  of  her  sex  gained 
the  ascendence,  and  it  was  seen  that  she  had  been  weep- 
ing, no  doubt  at  the  remembrance  of  her  daughter  and 
husband.  This  mixture  of  delicate  feeling  and  heroic 
fortitude  rendered  Madame  Roland  still  more  interesting. 
As  she  passed  to  her  examination,  we  saw  her  with  that 
firmness  of  deportment  which  usually  marked  her  char- 
acter :  as  she  returned,  her  eyes  were  moistened  with 
tears,  but  they  were  tears  of  indignation.  She  had  been 
treated  with  the  grossest  rudeness,  and  questions  had 
been  put  to  her  insulting  to  her  honor.  The  day  on 
which  she  was  condemned,  she  had  dressed  herself  in 
white,  and  with  peculiar  care  ;  her  long  black  hair  hung 
down  loose  to  her  waist.  After  her  condemnation,  she 
.  returned  to  the  prison  with  an  alacrity  that  was  little 
short  of  pleasure.  By  a  sign  that  was  not  mistaken,  she 
gave  all  to  understand  she  was  condemned  to  die. 
Associated  in  the  same  death  with  her,  was  a  man  who 
had  not  her  fortitude ;  yet  she  infused  a  portion  of  her 
courage  into  his  mind,  in  a  manner  so  attractive  and 
irresistible,  that  he  was  seen  more  than  once  to  smile  ! 

"  When  she  came  to  the  place  of  execution,  she  bowed 
to  the  statue  of  Liberty,  and  pronounced  these  memora- 
ble words  :  — « Oh,  Liberty !  how  many  crimes  are  com- 
mitted in  thy  name ! '  " 


THERE  are  on  record  innumerable  instances  of  forti 
tude  displayed  by  the  female  martyrs,  but  rendered  so 
revolting    by  the  details  of  unparalleled   cruelty  and 


290  FORTITUDE. 

superstition  which  accompany  them,  that  they  have  been 
purposely  suppressed  here.  Such  examples  are  unnec- 
essary in  the  present  enlightened  state  of  society,  as 
there  is  no  danger  of  the  recurrence  of  similar  persecu- 
tions; but  in  passing  silently  over  the  sufferings  and 
unshaken  constancy  of  these  heroic  women,  it  is  a  conso- 
lation to  know  that,  for  those  who  remain  "  faithful  unto 
death  "  is  reserved  the  "  crown  of  life,"  as  an  imperish- 
able and  eternal  portion. 


COURAGE  AND  PRESENCE  OF  MIND. 


TELESILLA. ARTEMISIA. CLCELIA. COUNTESS  OF  MONTFORT. 

MAR'/IA. MARGARET      OF     ANJOU. SOLDIER'S      WIDOW. DCR- 

GAUTTI. DUCHESS    OF    FERRARA. CONSTANCE    DE     CEZELLI. 

MADEMOISELLE     D'ORLEANS. MADEMOISELLE     DE    CHEVREUSE. 

XADAME  DE  VERCHERES. MADAME  DESHOULIERES. MISS  BAILLY. 

COURAGEOUS  FRENCH  WOMAN. FAITHFUL    NEGRESS. FAITH- 
FUL    DOMESTIC. AUGUSTINA      "  SARRAGOSSA." PRESENCE      OF 

MIND  IN  A  GERMAN  GIRL. ENGLISH  HEROISM. QUEEN  OF  PRUS- 
SIA.   HON.  MISS  EDEN. THE  MILLER'S  MAID. 


"  Presence  of  mind  and  courage  in  distress 
Are  more  than  armies  to  procure  success." 

"  COURAGE  is  active  fortitude ;  it  meets  dangers,  and 
attempts  to  repel  them.  This  virtue  is  alone  excited  by 
exposure  to  those  evils  which  are  usually  productive  of 
the  emotion  of  fear." 

Although  this  valuable  quality  of  the  mind  is  not  in 
the  present  day  so  remarkable  a  feature  in  the  female 
character  as  formerly,  there  are  not  fewer  opportunities 
for  its  display.  Women  are  not  now,  indeed,  called  upon, 
like  the  heroines  of  past  ages,  to  lead  armed  troops  to 
the  field  of  battle ;  but  many  trying  circumstances  of 
life  might  be  enumerated,  where  courage  is  indispens- 
ably necessary  to  enable  them  to  fulfil  their  duty  with 
becoming  fortitude  and  heroism. 

Presence  of  mind  is  equally  desirable,  and  although, 
like  courage,  hard  to 'be  obtained,  inevitably  bears  with 
it  a  permanent  reward.  Both  these  virtues  are  most 
easily  acquired  by  those  who  are  already  possessed  01 


. 

292       COURAGE  AND  PRESENCE  OF  MIND. 

their  firm  basis,  health ;  for  when  the  body  is  enervated 
the  mind  becomes  enfeebled,  torpid,  and  incapable  of 
exertion ;  thus  the  invalid  is  rendered  a  prey  to  nervous- 
ness and  fear,  and  trembles  at  the  remotest  symptoms  of 
danger ;  while  the  person  in  health  looks  with  an  intrepid 
eye  on  difficulties,  sufferings  and  death,  remaining  un- 
daunted and  undismayed  by  the  appalling  spectacle. 


TELESILLA  SAVES  THE  CITY  OF  ARGOS. 

"  This  may  plant  courage  in  their  quailing  breasts  ; 
For  yet  is  hope  oFlife  and  victory."  —  SHAKSPEARB. 

"TELESILLA,  a  lyric  poet  of  Argos,  rendered  her 
country  illustrious  by  her  writings,  and  saved  it  by  her 
courage. 

"  The  city  of  Argos  was  on  the  point  of  falling  into  the 
hands  of  the  Lacedaemonians ;  it  had  lost  six  thousand 
men,  among  whom  were  the  flower  of  its  youth. 

"  Telesilla  collected  the  women  most  proper  to  second 
her  designs,  furnished  them  with  arms,  which  she  pro- 
vided from  the  temples  or  houses  of  individuals,  placed 
herself  with  them  on  the  walls,  and  finally  repulsed  the 
enemy,  who,  from  fear  of  being  reproached  either  with 
victory  or  defeat,  retired  from  before  the  city.  The  most 
signal  honors  were  rendered  to  these  female  warriors 
some  of  whom  fell  in  the  contest;  and  a  statue  was 
erected  in  gratitude  to  Telesilla,  and  placed  in  the 
teiiple  of  Venus." 


COURAGE   AND   PRESENCE   OF  MIND.  29o 

HEROIC  CONDUCT  OF  ARTEMISIA. 

"  Xerxes  boasts 

His  ablest,  bravest  counsellor  and  chief 
In  Artemisia,  Caria's  matchless  queen." 

GLOVER'S  Leonidas, 

THE  celebrated  Artemisia,  Queen  of  Caria,  was  re- 
markable for  her  courage  and  patriotism.  She  assisted 
Xerxes,  in  his  expedition  against  Greece,  with  a  fleet; 
her  wisdom  was  very  conspicuous,  from  the  excellent 
advice  she  gave  that  monarch,  and  her  valor  was  emi- 
nently distinguished  above  that  of  all  the  men  in  the 
battle  of  Salamis.  She  is  honorably  mentioned  by  a 
variety  of  writers,  and  Herodotus  gives  the  following 
interesting  account  of  her.  He  says,  "  It  is  impossible 
not  to  speak,  and  with  admiration,  of  Artemisia,  who, 
though  a  female,  served  in  this  Grecian  expedition.  On 
the  death  of  her  husband,  she  enjoyed  the  supreme 
authority,  for  her  son  was  not  yet  grown  up,  and  her 
great  spirit  and  vigor  of  mind  alone  induced  her  to 
exert  herself  on  this  occasion.  She  was  the  daughter  of 
Lygdamis ;  by  her  father's  side  of  Halicarnassus,  by  her 
mother  of  Cretan  descent.  She  had  the  conduct  of  those 
of  Halicarnassus,  Cos,  Nisiros,  and  Calydne.  She  fur- 
nished five  ships,  which,  next  to  those  of  the  Sidonians, 
were  the  best  in  the  fleet.  She  was  also  distinguished 
among  all  the  allies  for  the  salutary  counsels  which  she 
gave  the  king.  The  people  I  have  recited  as  subject 
to  Artemisia  were,  I  believe,  all  of  them  Dorians.  The 
Halicarnassians  were  originally  of  Trcezene,  the  rest  of 
Epidaurus." 

Prior  to  the  famous  battle  of  Salamis,  "  Xerxes  visited 
his  fleet  in  person,  to  confer  with  the  leaders,  and  t« 
acquaint  himself  with  their  sentiments.  On  his  arrival, 
25* 


294  COURAGE   AND   PRESENCE    OF   MIND. 

he  presided  at  a  council,  where  the  princes  of  the  differ- 
ent nations,  and  the  several  commanders,  were  placed 
according  to  the  rank  which  Xerxes  had  given  them. 
The  Prince  of  Sidon  first,  the  Prince  of  Tyre  next,  and 
the  rest  in  order.  The  king  then  commissioned  Mardo- 
nius  to  inquire  of  them  individually  whether  they  were 
willing  to  engage  the  enemy.  Mardonius  began  with 
the  Prince  of  Sidon,  and  from  him  went  to  the  rest ; 
and  they  were  all  of  opinion  that  the  battle  should  be 
fought ;  but  Artemisia  thus  delivered  her  sentiments  : 
'  Mardonius,  deliver  this  my  opinion  to  the  king,  whose 
exertions  in  the  battle  of  Eubcea  were  neither  the  mean- 
est nor  the  least ;  I  think  myself,  therefore,  justified  in 
declaring  what  I  consider  it  will  be  most  to  your  interest 
to  pursue.  I  would  advise  you  to  spare  your  ships,  and 
not  risk  a  battle.  These  men,  by  sea,  are  as  much  supe- 
rior to  yours,  as  men  are  to  women ;  but,  after  all,  what 
necessity  is  there  for  your  hazarding  an  engagement  ? 
You  are  already  in  possession  of  Athens,  the  avowed 
object  of  this  expedition ;  the  rest  of  Greece  is  already 
your  own,  and  no  one  resists  you.  They  who  opposed 
you  have  met  the  fate  they  merited.  I  will  now  tell  you 
how  the  affairs  of  your  adversaries  are  circumstanced : 
if  you  do  not  urge  a  naval  engagement,  but  will  order 
your  vessels  either  to  remain  here,  or  sail  to  the  Pelo- 
ponnese,  all  your  wishes  will  infallibly  be  accomplished. 
The  Greeks  will  not  long  be  able  to  oppose  you ;  you 
will  oblige  them  to  separate,  and  retire  to  their  respective 
homes.  I  am  well  informed,  that  in  the  island  where 
they  are  they  have  no  supply  of  provisions ;  and  if  you 
shall  enter  the  Peloponnese,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that 
these  remaining  here  will  risk  a  battle  for  the  sake  of  the 
Athenians.  But  if  you  determine  to  fight  them  by  sea, 


COURAGE   AND   PRESENCE   OF   MIND.  295 

I  seriously  fear  that  a  defeat  of  your  fleet  will  be  added 
to  that  of  your  land  forces.  Let  this  also  be  impressed 
upon  your  mind,  that  the  best  of  men  have  sometimes 
the  worst  of  servants  ;  and  that  bad  men  are  frequently 
served  with  fidelity.  You,  0  king,  are  one  of  the  best 
of  men ;  but  you  have  among  your  dependants  Egyp- 
tians, Cyprians,  Cilicians,  and  Pamphylians,  from  whom 
no  good  can  be  expected.' 

"  They  who  wished  well  to  Artemisia  were  appre- 
hensive that  her  speaking  thus  decisively  to  Mardonius 
against  risking  a  battle  would  bring  upon  her  .some 
mark  of  the  king's  indignation;  her  enemies,  on  the 
contrary,  who  wished  to  see  her  disgraced,  and  who 
were  jealous  of  her  favor  with  the  king,  were  delighted 
in  the  confident  expectation  that  her  freedom  of  speech 
would  prove  her  ruin ;  but  Xerxes,  after  hearing  the 
opinions  of  the  council,  was  particularly  pleased  with 
that  of  Artemisia ;  he  had  esteemed  her  before,  but  he 
was  on  this  occasion  lavish  in  her  praise.  He  neverthe- 
less determined  to  comply  with  the  decision  of  the  major- 
ity;  and  as  he  imputed  the  former  ill  success  at  Eubosa 
to  his  being  absent,  he  resolved  to  be  a  spectator  of  the 
battle  of  Salamis." 

In  the  memorable  engagement  which  followed,  the 
conduct  of  Artemisia  increased  her  favor  with  the  king. 
"  When  the  greatest  disorder  prevailed  in  the  royal  fleet, 
the  vessel  of  Artemisia  was  pursued  by  an  Athenian, 
and  reduced  to  the  extremest  danger.  In  this  perplexity, 
having  before  her  many  vessels  of  her  allies,  and  bein§ 
herself  the  nearest  to  the  enemy,  the  following  artifice 
succeeded.  As  she  retreated  from  the  Athenian,  she 
commenced  an  attack  upon  a  ship  of  b^r  own  party ;  it 
was  a  Calyndian,  and  had  on  board  Damasithymus,  the 


296  COURAGE   AND   PRESENCE   OF   MIND. 

Calyndian  prince.  Whilst  they  were  in  the  Hellespont, 
she  was  involved  in  some  dispute  with  this  man,  but  it 
is  still  uncertain  whether  her  conduct  in  the  present 
instance  was  the  effect  of  design,  or  accidentally  happened 
from  the  Calyndian's  coming  first  in  her  way.  This  vessel 
Artemisia  attacked  and  sunk,  by  which  she  obtained  a 
double  advantage.  The  Athenian  commander,  seeing 
the  vessel  he  pursued  attack  a  barbarian,  supposed  that 
it  was  either  a  Grecian  ship,  or  one  that  had  deserted 
the  barbarians,  and  was  now  assisting  the  Greeks ;  he 
was  thus  induced  to  direct  his  attack  elsewhere.* 

"  Artemisia  by  this  action  not  only  avoided  the  im- 
pending danger,  but  also  made  herself  more  acceptable  to 
the  king  at  the  time  she  was  doing  hirn  an  actual  injury. 
It  is  asserted  that  the  king,  as  he  viewed  the  engagement, 
observed  her  vessel  bearing  down  upon  the  other.  At 
this  period,  some  attendant  remarked  to  him,  '  Observe, 
sire,  the  prowess  of  Artemisia ;  she  has  now  sent  to  the 
bottom  a  vessel  of  the  enemy.'  The  king  was  earnest 
in  his  inquiry  whether  the  ship  which  attracted  his  at- 
tention was  really  that  of  Artemisia.  Those  about  him, 
knowing  exactly  the  figure  which  distinguished  her  ship, 
assured  him  that  it  was ;  at  the  same  time,  they  had  no 
doubt  but  the  vessel  she  had  attacked  belonged  to  the 
enemy.  It  happened,  among  the  other  fortunate  occur- 
rences which  Artemisia  met  with,  that  not  a  single  person 
of  the  Calyndian  vessel  survived  to  accuse  her.  Xerxes 
is  said  to  have  replied  to  what  they  told  him,  '  The  men 
have  behaved  like  women,  the  women  like  men.'"  t 

*  Polyaenus  informs  us  that  Artemisia  first  ordered  her  Persian 
ensign  to  be  taken  down  ;  a  circumstance  omitted  by  Herodotus, 
but  which  adds  much  to  the  probability  of  the  story. 

f  Herodotus. 


COURAGE    AND   PRESENCE    OF   MIND.  297 

The  king  afterwards  sent  a  complete  suit  of  Grecian 
armor  to  Artemisia  as  a  reward  for  her  bravery,  and 
to  the  commander  of  his  own  fleet  a  distaff  and  spin- 
dle' 

Aminias  of  Pallene,  brother  of  the  great  poet  -ZEschy- 
lus,  was  the  person  who  had  pursued  Artemisia,  and  he 
"  would  not  have  desisted  till  he  had  taken  the  enemy, 
or  been  taken  himself,  if  he  had  conceived  her  to 
nave  been  on  board  the  vessel  which  he  chased.  The 
Athenian  commanders  had  received  particular  orders 
with  respect  to  her,  and  a  reward  of  ten  thousand 
drachmae  was  offered  to  whoever  should  take  her  alive, 
it  being  thought  a  most  disgraceful  circumstance  that  a 
voman  should  fight  against  Athens.  She,  however, 
escaped,  as  we  have  before  described,  as  also  did  many 
others,  to  Phalerum." 

When,  after  this  signal  defeat  at  Salamis,  Xerxes 
remained  yet  undecided  as  to  the  conduct  he  should 
pursue  in  future,  whether  to  remain  in  Greece,  or  return 
into  Persia,  and  Mardonius  advised  that  he  should 
endeavor  to  complete  the  subjugation  of  the  Greeks,  the 
king  told  him  that  after  taking  advice  on  the  subject,  he 
would  give  him  an  answer.  Having  consulted  with 
some  Persians  whom  he  assembled,  he  determined  to 
send  for  Artemisia,  whose  superior  wisdom  he  had  before 
had  reason  to  approve.  On  her  arrival,  Xerxes  ordered 
his  councillors  and  guards  to  retire,  whilst  he  thus 
addressed  her:  "Mardonius  advises  me  to  continue  here, 
and  make  an  attempt  on  the  Peloponnese,  urging  that 
my  Persians  and  land  forces  have  not  been  at  all  acces- 
sory to  the  injuries  we  have  sustained,  of  which  they 
desire  to  give  me  future  testimony.  If  I  should  disapprove 
of  this,  he  himself  engages,  with  three  hundred  thousand 


298       COURAGE  AND  PRESENCE  OF  MIND. 

troops,  to  stay  and  reduce  Greece  to  my  power,  recom- 
mending me  to  retire,  with  the  rest  of  the  army,  to  my 
native  country.  Do  you,  therefore,  who  with  so  much 
wisdom  endeavored  to  dissuade  me  from  risking  an 
engagement  at  sea,  tell  me  which  of  these  measures 
you  would  have  me  pursue  ? "  The  reply  of  Artemisia 
was  to  the  following  purport :  "In  a  situation  like  the 
present,  0  king,  it  is  not  easy  to  say  what  measures  will 
be  best;  but  as  far  as  I  am  able  to  discern,  I  would 
recommend  y*our  return.  Let  Mardonius  remain  here 
with  the  number  of  forces  he  requires,  as  it  is  his  own 
voluntary  proposal  to  effect  with  these  the  accomplish- 
ment of  your  wishes.  If  he  shall  subjugate  the  country, 
and  perform  what  he  promises,  the  glory  will  be  yours, 
for  your  troops  must  be  his  instruments ;  if  he  should  be 
disappointed  and  vanquished,  while  you  are  safe,  and 
your  family  and  fortunes  secure,  no  great  calamity  can 
ensue.  The  Greeks,  as  long  as  you  survive,  and  your 
family  remain,  must  be  involved  in  many  contests.  If 
Mardonius  shall  fail  in  his  attempts,  and  perish,  the 
Greeks  will  have  no  great  advantage  to  boast  from  the 
misfortunes  or  death  of  one  of  your  slaves.  You  have 
burned  Athens,  which  was  the  proposed  object  of  your 
expedition,  and  may  therefore  return  without  dishonor." 
Herodotus,  who  gives  us  the  preceding  relation, 
remarks,  "  Xerxes  was  delighted  with  advice  so  conso- 
nant to  the  secret  wishes  of  his  heart ;  for  my  own  part, 
I  am  of  opinion  his  terror  was  so  great  that  no  persua- 
sions could  have  prevailed  on  him  to  stay.  Artemisia 
was  dismissed  most  graciously  from  his  presence,  and 
directed  to  retire  with  the  royal  children  to  Ephesus, 
for  some  of  the  king's  natural  sons  had  accompanied 
him." 


COURAGE   AND  PRESENCE   OF  MIND.  299 

Such  was  the  respect  paid  to  this  royal  heroine  oy  the 
Persian  monarch,  who,  had  he  followed  the  advice  she 
gave,  would  have  infallibly  been  the  conqueror  of  Greece. 

HEROIC  ENTERPRISE   OF  CL(ELIA. 

True  nobility  is  exempt  from  fear ; 

More  can  I  bear  than  you  dare  execute."  —  SHAKSPEARE. 

IN  the  early  part  of  the  history  of  Rome,  the  inhab- 
itants of  that  city  having  concluded  a  peace  with  Por- 
senna,  King  of  Etruria,  in  order  to  render  their  treaty 
more  lasting,  sent  their  daughters  to  that  monarch  as 
hostages. 

Upon  their  arrival  at  the  camp  of  the  Etrurians,  one 
of  these  virgins,  named  Clcelia,  considering  that  their 
chastity  was  not  secure  among  so  many  warriors,  ex- 
horted her  companions  to  deliver  themselves  from  this 
just  apprehension,  telling  them  that  it  would  be  better  to 
expose  their  lives  than  their  honor.  Having  succeeded 
in  bringing  her  companions  to  entertain  the  same  opin- 
ion, they  unanimously  adopted  the  courageous  resolution 
of  escaping  from  their  enemies  by  swimming  across  the 
Tiber  to  Rome.  This  extraordinary  feat  they  actually 
performed  in  safety,  and,  under  the  guidance  of  Clcelia, 
arrived  at  their  native  city  :  but,  although  their  parents 
could  not  fail  to  applaud  their  adventurous  enterprise, 
they  would  not  thus  suffer  the  public  faith  to  be  violated, 
and,  with  true  Roman  severity,  they  sent  them  back  to 
the  king,  that  he  might  punish  them  if  he  thought 
proper. 

Brought  into  the  presence  of  Porsenna,  the  monarch 
inquired  who  first  proposed  so  dangerous  an  enterprise  ? 
The  Roman  virgins,  imagining  that  this  question  was 
put  with  a  view  of  punishing  the  author  of  the  project, 


300  COURAGE   AND   PRESENCE    OF   MIND. 

remained  silent ;  but  they  were  spared  the  pain  of  betray- 
ing their  leader  by  the  candid  avowal  of  Cloelia,  who 
informed  Porsenna  that  she  alone  had  been  the  author 
of  their  offence ;  and  that,  in  consequence,  no  one  but 
herself  deserved  punishment.  Porsenna  was  so  charmed 
with  this  frank  acknowledgment,  that  he  could  not 
refrain  from  bestowing  on  the  courage  of  the  captive 
maiden  the  admiration  it  so  justly  merited :  he  imme- 
diately granted  her  her  own  liberty  and  that  of  her  com- 
panions, presenting  her,  at  the  same  time,  with  a  cata- 
phractery  horse,  which  was  the  recompense  of  a  brave 
man  who  had  signalized  himself  in  battle ;  as  much  as  to 
say,  that  her  action  equalled  that  of  the  most  brave.  He 
also  permitted  Cloelia  to  choose,  among  the  other  hos- 
tages, those  whom  she  would  most  like  to  set  at  liberty  : 
she  immediately  selected  all  the  young  children,  as  she 
considered  their  situation  most  exposed  to  fatigue  and 
danger. 

Accompanied  by  the  Roman  virgins  and  the  children 
whose  freedom  she  had  obtained,  Clcelia  returned  to 
Rome  with  all  the  magnificence  of  a  triumph,  where  she 
was  received  with  a  joy  equal  to  her  own  by  its  citizens, 
who  were  justly  proud  of  their  alliance  with  so  illustrious 
a  female.  A  statue  on  horseback  was  afterwards  erected 
in  a  public  market-place  to  commemorate  the  virtue  and 
boldness  of  Cloelia  and  the  generosity  of  Porsenna. 


•         COURAGE    /.ND    PRESENCE    OF    M£\TD.  301 

JANE,  COUNTESS  OF  MONTFORT. 

"  Be  great  in  act  as  you  have  been  in  thought ; 
*  *  So  shall  inferior  eyes, 

That  borrow  their  behaviors  from  the  great, 
Grow  great  by  your  example,  and  put  on 
The  dauntless  spirit  of  resolution."  —  SHAKSPEARK. 

IN  the  time  of  Edward  the  Third,  of  England,  lived 
Jane,  Countess  of  Montfort,  who  was  remarkable  for  her 
courage  and  presence  of  mind. 

"  The  count,  her  husband,  had  seized  upon  his  inher- 
itance, the  Duchy  of  Brittany,  in  opposition  to  the  claims 
of  Charles  of  Blois,  who  had  married  a  grand-daughter 
of  the  late  duke.  Edward  the  Third,  of  England,  had 
engaged  to  support  the  pretensions  of  the  count,  but 
when  De  Montfort  was  taken  prisoner  by  the  enemy 
shortly  after,  it  appeared  very  unlikely  that  he  would  be 
much  benefited  by  this  royal  alliance.  The  affairs  .ol 
Brittany,  however,  were  very  unexpectedly  retrieved  by 
the  conduct  of  the  Lady  Jane,  wife  of  the  imprisoned 
count.  Roused  by  the  news  of  her  husband's  captivity 
from  those  domestic  cares  to  which  she  had  hitherto 
entirely  confined  herself,  she  boldly  resolved  to  support 
the  falling  fortunes  of  her  family.  On  receiving  the 
fatal  intelligence,  instead  of  giving  way  to  despair,  she 
instantly  assembled  the  inhabitants  of  Rennes,  where 
she  then  resided,  and,  taking  her  infant  son  in  her  arms, 
conjured  them  to  extend  their  protection  to  the  last  male 
heir  of  their  ancient  sovereigns  :  expatiated  on  the 
resources  to  be  derived  from  England,  and  entreated 
them  to  make  one  daring  effort  against  a  usurper,  who, 
being  allied  to  France,  would  sacrifice  their  ancient 
liberty  as  the  price  of  assistance. 

"The  bold  and  pathetic  appeal  of  the  countess  so 
26 


^  u\ 

302  COURAGE   AND   PRESENCE   OF   MIND. 

affected  those  whom  she  addressed,  that  they  were 
inspired  with  the  same  enthusiastic  ardor,  and  resolved 
to  defend  her  with  their  lives  and  fortunes. 

"Jane  then  made  a  progress  through  all  the  other 
fortresses  of  the  duchy,  and  induced  them  to  adopt  sim- 
ilar measures;  she  visited  the  garrisons,  and  provided 
everything  necessary  for  sustenance  and  defence ;  thus 
having  secured  the  whole  province  from  any  surprise  of 
the  enemy,  she  sent  her  son  over  to  England,  and  shut 
herself  up  in  Hennebonne,  there  to  await  the  arrival  of 
some  troops  from  that  country. 

"  Charles  of  Blois,  thinking  that  a  war  conducted  by  a 
woman  would  soon  be  terminated,  opened  the  campaign, 
and  speedily  gained  possession  of  Rennes,  whence  he 
proceeded  to  Hennebonne,  where  the  brave  countess 
commanded  in  person.  Animated  by  the  presence  of 
so  courageous  a  leader,  the  garrison  made  a  vigorous 
defence.  Jane,  on  her  part,  performed  prodigies  of 
valor:  clad  in  complete  armor,  she  stood  foremost  in  the 
breach,  sustained  the  most  violent  assaults,  and,  flying 
with  active  vigilance  from  post  to  rampart,  encouraged 
her  troops,  and  displayed  skill  that  would  have  done 
honor  to  the  most  experienced  general.  One  day,  per- 
ceiving that  the  besiegers,  while  engaged  in  a  general 
attack,  had  left  their  camp  unguarded,  Jane  sallied  forth 
by  a  postern  with  five  hundred  men,  set  fire  to  their 
baggage  and  magazines,  and  created  so  universal  an 
alarm,  that  the  besiegers  desisted  from  the  assault,  to 
cut  off"  her  communication  with  the  town.  Finding  it 
impossible  to  return,  Jane  galloped  towards  Auray, 
which  she  reached  in  safety.  She,  however,  returned 
at  the  expiration  of  five  days  at  the  head  of  her  little 
army,  cut  her  way  through  part  of  the  camp,  and  entered 


COURAGE   AND  PRESENCE   OF  MIND.  303 

• 

the  town  in  triumph.  By  this  time,  however,  so  many 
breaches  had  been  made  in  the  walls,  that  the  place  was 
considered  no  longer  tenable ;  and  the  Bishop  of  Leon, 
disregarding  the  prayers  and  remonstrances  of  the  count- 
ess, had  determined  to  capitulate :  he  was,  indeed, 
engaged  in  a  conference  with  Charles  of  Blois,  when 
Jane,  who  had  ascended  a  lofty  tower,  and  was  casting 
an  eager  look  towards  the  sea,  descried  a  fleet  at  a  dis- 
tance. She  instantly  ran  into  the  streets,  crying  out,  in 
a  transport  of  joy,  '  Succors  !  succors  !  the  English  suc- 
cors !  no  capitulation  ! '  She  was  right  in  her  conject- 
ures ;  the  English  fleet  speedily  entered  the  harbor,  and 
the  troops,  headed  by  Sir  Walter  de  Manny,  sallied  from 
the  city,  attacked  the  camp  of  the  besiegers,  and  reduced 
it  to  ashes. 

"  Unfortunately,  however,  the  count,  who  was  soon 
afterwards  set  at  liberty  by  a  treaty,  was  slain  in  the 
defence  of  his  rights.  The  hopes  of  the  people  of  Brit- 
tany being  thus  transferred  to  his  infant  heir,  King 
Edward  warmly  espoused  his  cause.  At  a  subsequent 
period,  Charles  of  Blois,  hastening  to  assist  a  fortress 
which  Jane  had  reduced,  was  attacked  in  his  intrench- 
ments,  dangerously  wounded,  and  taken  prisoner  by  the 
intrepid  countess." 

NOBLE  COURAGE  OF  MARZIA. 

"  Fortune  may  often  defeat  the  purpose  of  Virtue,  yet 
Virtue  in  bearing  affliction  can  never  lose  her  prerogative." 

PLUTARCH. 

A  FEW  years  after  the  beautiful  display  of  the  chivalric 
character  in  France  afforded  by  Jane,  Countess  of  Mont- 
fort,  the  gloom  of  war  in  Italy  was  illuminated  by  a 
noble  trait  of  female  heroism. 


504  COURAGE   AND   PRESENCE   OF   MIND. 

d 

Maraia,  a  lady  of  the  family  of  the  Ubaldini,  so  cele- 
brated for  its  virtue  and  noble  gests,  was  the  wife  or 
Francesco  d'Ordelaffi,  Lord  of  Forli,  the  only  prince  in 
Romagna  who  maintained  his  independence  against  the 
tyranny  of  the  Papal  power.  Knowing  her  firmness  and 
spirit,  he  intrusted  the  defence  of  the  town  of  Cesena  to 
his  wife,  while  he  himself  maintained  the  snore  important 
position  of  Forli.  In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1357, 
Marzia  tore  herself  away  from  her  husband,  and,  throw- 
ing aside  the  gorgeous  robe  of  peaceful  power,  donned 
the  casque  and  the  cuirass.  She  stationed  herself  in 
Cesena  with  two  hundred  soldiers,  equipped  like  knights, 
and  the  same  number  of  ordinary  troops.  She  was 
accompanied  also  by  her  son  and  daughter,  and  that 
sage  counsellor  of  the  Ordelaffi  family,  SgarigKno  de 
Petragudula.  An  army  ten  times  more  numerous  than 
all  the  defenders  of  GeeerM  soon  beleaguered  .ne  pluce. 
At  the  end  of  April  some  of  the  terrified  burgesses 
opened  the  gates  of  the  lower  part  of  the  town  to  the 
enemj  ;  but  in  that  moment  of  peril  Marzia  remembered 
that  her  husband  had  declared  that,  unless  the  Pope 
would  treat  with  him  on  honorable  terms,  he  would 
sustain  a  siege  in  every  one  of  his  castles ;  and  when  he 
had  lost  them,  he  would  defend  the  walls  of  Forli,  and 
then  its  streets,  its  squares,  his  palace,  and  the  last  tower 
of  his  palace,  rather  than  give  his  consent  to  surrender 
that  which  was  his  own.  Marzia  retreated  into  the 
upper  part  of  the  town,  with  such  of  the  soldiers  and 
citizens  who  continued  faithful  to  her.  She  now  dis- 
covered that  Sgariglino  had  been  a  traitor.  Justice  then 
had  her  doe,  and  the  head  of  him  whom  no  feelings  of 
honor  or  gallantry  could  preserve  in  the  path  of  virtue 
was  rolled  from  the  battlements  among  the  besieging 
irmy.  Marzia  relied  entirely  on  her  own  wisdom  and 


COURAGE    AND   PRESENCE   OF   MIND.  305 

courage ;  she  took  on  herself  all  the  duties  of  governor 
and  captain,  and,  wearing  her  cuirass  both  by  night  and 
day,  she  braved  all  those  hardships  which,  in  former 
moments  of  happiness  and  ease,  she  would  have  thought 
herself  incapable  of  supporting.  But  the  besiegers  smiled 
with  indifference  at  her  courage,  for  their  miners  were 
slowly  and  surely  effecting  her  ruin.  She  was  compelled 
to  retreat  to  the  citadel  with  four  hundred  soldiers  and 
citizens,  who  vowed  to  be  faithful  to  death.  The  miners 
persevered,  and  at  length  the  citadel  almost  hung  in  air. 
The  father  of  Marzia  at  that  moment  reached  Cesena, 
and  his  passage  had  been  facilitated  by  the  legate.  He 
entreated  his  heroic  daughter  to  surrender,  as  bravery 
had  accomplished  its  utmost,  and  still  the  besiegers  were 
gradually  prevailing.  Her  reply  was  simple  and  firm, — 
that  her  husband  had  given  her  a  duty  to  perform,  and 
that  she  must  obey,  without  forming  any  opinion  on  the 
nature  of  his  command.  Her  heroism  was  not  supported 
by  the  people,  for  they  unanimously  declared  the  folly 
of  further  resistance.  Compelled,  then,  to  surrender, 
she  herself  opened  the  negociations ;  and  so  skilfully  did 
she  act,  so  much  dreaded  was  the  despair  to  which  she 
might  be  tempted,  that  she  obtained  from  the  legate  a 
treaty,  whereby  it  was  agreed  that  all  the  soldiers  who 
had  bravely  supported  her  might  return  home  with  their 
arms  and  equipments.  On  the  21st  of  June  she  opened 
the  gate  of  the  citadel :  she  disdained  to  ask  any  favor 
for  herself;  and  the  legate,  untouched  by  any  chivalric 
sympathy  for  female  heroism,  cast  her  and  her  children 
into  prison. 

Italy  has  not  many  romantic  associations,  and  there 
are  now  no  remains  of  Cesena  to  awaken  the  admiration 
of  the  traveller  to  the  heroism  of  Marzia. 
26* 


306  COURAGE   AND   PRESENCE   OF   MIND. 

PRESENCE  OF  MIND  OF  QUEEN  MARGARET. 
"  Courage  alone  can  save  us."  —  SOUTHEY. 

"!N  the  chivalrous  ages,  women  not  only  attacked  and 
defended  fortifications,  but  even  commanded  armies  and 
obtained  victories. 

"  Margaret  of  Anjou,  wife  of  Henry  the  Sixth,  by  her 
uncommon  genius  and  courage,  supported  her  feeble 
husband  under  the  most  trying  circumstances,  teaching 
him  how  to  conquer,  by  her  example :  she  replaced  him 
on  the  throne,  and  twice  relieved  him  from  prison. 
Oppressed  by  misfortunes  of  every  description,  her  cour- 
ageous spirit  did  not  forsake  her,  till  she  had  in  person 
decided  twelve  battles.  This  queen  displayed  a  remark- 
able presence  of  mind  on  many  occasions,  but  more 
particularly  once  when  she  had  escaped  with  great  dif- 
ficulty from  the  field  of  battle,  where  she  had  sustained 
a  defeat ;  and,  carrying  her  infant  son  in  her  arms,  was 
seeking  for  shelter  in  a  neighboring  forest :  wandering 
about  in  this  forlorn  situation,  she  lost  her  way,  and  was 
stopped  by  some  robbers,  who,  after  plundering  her  of 
her  jewels,  began  to  quarrel  concerning  the  division  of 
the  booty.  Margaret  took  advantage  of  this  favorable 
opportunity  to  make  her  escape,  which  she  had  scarcely 
effected,  when,  breathless  and  ready  to  faint  with  fatigue, 
she  encountered  another  robber,  sword  in  hand.  The 
maternal  affection  and  never-failing  presence  of  mind  of 
the  queen  suggested  the  following  expedient  at  this 
critical  moment.  '  Here,  my  friend  ! '  she  exclaimed  (as 
she  advanced  and  presented  her  child  to  the  robber), 
'  to  your  care  I  commit  the  safety  of  your  king's  son.' 
The  ruffian,  overcome  with  astonishment  and  delight  at 
the  confiderce  so  unexpectedly  reposed  in  him,  afforded 


COURAGE    AND    PRESENCE    OF   MIND.  307 

the  royal  fugitives  all  the  protection  and  assistance  which 
their  situation  demanded,  and  finally  procured  them  a 
safe  passport  to  Flanders." 

While  we  admire  the  wonderful  presence  of  mind  of 
Margaret,  we  must  bestow  on  the  conduct  of  the  robber 
the  esteem  it  so  truly  deserves,  and  regard  it  as  a 
remarkable  instance  of  great  virtues  being  obscured,  yet 
not  obliterated,  by  circumstances.  Had  the  robber  been 
placed  in  another  situation,  it  is  probable  that  he  would 
have  become  a  virtuous  member  of  society,  while,  as  an 
outlaw,  his  conduct  to  his  unfortunate  sovereign  has 
attached  to  his  memory  an  honor  which  even  the  noble 
and  titled  might  be  proud  to  share. 


INSTANCE  OF  FEMALE  RESOLUTION. 

"  I  now  feel  courage  in  the  world  at  once 
To  rush,  and  bear  its  every  joy  and  grief ; 
To  battle  with  the  tempests,  and  to  stand 
Undaunted  'midst  the  shipwreck's  dreadful  crash." 
Translation  of  GOETHE. 

A  MEMORABLE  instance  of  courage  was  displayed  on 
the  occasion  of  the  defence  of  Erlau,  during  the  period 
of  the  last  and  most  arduous  campaign  of  Castaldo, 
Count  of  Piadena,  against  the  Turks  in  Hungary,  under 
the  Emperor  Charles  V. 

In  respect  to  fortifications,  the  town  of  Erlau  was 
scarcely  competent  to  resist  the  feeblest  enemy ;  but  its 
deficiency  in  this  point  was  supplied  by  the  constancy 
and  valor  of  its  garrison  and  inhabitants.  The  very 
women  displayed  an  enterprise  that  the  more  vigoroub 
sex  can  seldom  boast  to  have  exhibited.  In  one  instance, 
a  heroine  of  this  sort  was  seen  fighting  in  the  presence 
of  her  mother  and  her  husband.  Her  husband  fell  dead 


308  COrjRAGE   AND   PRESENCE   OF   MIND. 

by  her  side  "  Let  us,  my  daughter,"  said  the  mothe*, 
"  remove  the  body,  and  devote  the  rest  of  our  care  to  its 
honorable  funeral."  "  May  God,"  returned  the  impas- 
sioned widow,  "  never  suffer  the  earth  to  cover  my  hus- 
band's corse,  till  his  death  has  been  amply  revenged  : 
this  is  the  hour  of  battle,  not  a  time  for  funeral  and  for 
tears  ! "  So  speaking,  and  seizing  the  sword  and  shield 
of  the  breathless  champion,  she  rushed  upon  the  enemy ; 
nor  did  she  quit  the  breach,  till,  by  the  slaughter  of  three 
Turks  who  were  ascending  the  scaling-ladders,  she  had 
appeased  the  fury  in  her  breast,  and  the  ghost  of  her 
departed  husband.  Then  raising  the  corpse,  and  press- 
ing it  to  her  bosom,  she  drew  it  to  the  great  church  of 
the  city,  and  paid  to  it  the  last  honors  with  all  possible 
magnificence. 


HEROISM  OF  AN  INDIAN  QUEEN. 

"  Thou  rising  sun  !  thou  blue  rejoicing  sky ! 

Yea,  everything  that  is  and  will  be  free  ! 
Bear  witness  for  me,  wheresoe'er  ye  be, 
With  what  deep  worship  I  have  still  adored 

The  spirit  of  divinest  Liberty." —  COI.ERJDGE. 

"  WHEN  Asaph  Chan  was  made  an  Omrah  of  five 
thousand,  and  obtained  the  government  of  Kurrah  and 
Maneckpoor,  the  history  of  Hindostan  informs  us  that  he 
obtained  permission  of  King  Mahummed  Akbar  to  sub- 
due a  country  called  Gurrah  or  Kattuck,  lying  between 
the  provinces  of  Ruttimpore,  Malava,  Behar,  and  the 
Decan.  At  that  time,  the  kingdom  of  Gurrah*  was 
governed  by  a  queen,  whose  name  was  Durgautti,  famous 
for  her  beauty  and  accomplishments  :  her  dominions 

*  Now  part  of  Orissa  and  Buodel-cund. 


COURAGE   AND  PRESENCE   OF   MIND.  309 

were  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  crores  in  length, 
and  about  fifty  in  breadth :  yet  so  flourishing  was  the 
country,  that  in  this  small  tract  there  were  about  seventy 
thousand  towns  and  villages,  well  inhabited,  which  had 
the  good  fortune  never  to  have  fallen  under  the  dominion 
of  foreigners. 

"Asaph  Chan,  having  heard  of  the  riches  of  this 
country,  disturbed  the  peaceable  inhabitants,  unaccus- 
tomed to  the  sound  of  war,  with  constant  depredations  ; 
he  at  length  marched  against  them  with  six  thousand 
horse,  and  about  double  that  number  of  infantry.  The 
queen,  with  fifteen  hundred  elephants,  eight  thousand 
horse,  and  some  foot,  prepared  to  oppose  him.  Like  a 
bold  heroine,  she  led  on  her  troops  to  action,  clothed  in 
armor,  with  a  helmet  upon  her  head,  mounted  in  a  how- 
dar,  on  an  elephant,  with  her  bow  and  quiver  lying  by 
her  side,  and  a  burnished  lance  in  her  hand.  Though 
her  troops  had  not  been  accustomed  to  action,  the  love 
of  liberty,  and  the  example  of  their  queen,  inspired  every 
breast  with  a  lion's  courage.  Their  eagerness  to  engage 
made  them  march  in  disorder  towards  the  enemy,  which 
the  queen  observing,  commanded  them  to  halt,  and,  form- 
ing her Jine  anew,  gave  her  troops  strict  orders  to  march 
on  slowly,  as  compact  as  possible,  and  to  observe  the 
signal  to  engage,  when  it  should  be  displayed  from  the 
elephant  of  the  royal  standard. 

"  In  this  manner  she  received  the  enemy,  whom  she 
quickly  repulsed,  and,  pressing  upon  them,  laid  six  hun- 
dred Mahommedan  horsemen  dead  on  the  field ;  she 
pursued  the  rest  till  the  evening,  with  great  slaughter. 
When  night  came  on,  the  queen  halted  with  her  army, 
and  gave  them  orders  to  wash  and  refresh  themselves, 
that  they  might  be  prepared  for  a  night  attack  upon  the 


310       COURAGE  AND  PRESENCE  OF  MIND. 

enemy,  before  they  could  recover  from  their  consterna 
tion.  But  her  vizier,  and  the  rest  of  her  chiefs,  less 
daring,  and  consequently  less  prudent  than  this  heroine, 
opposed  this  salutary  measure,  and  seditiously  insisted 
on  returning  to  the  field  of 'battle  to  bury  their  friends. 
She,  accordingly,  returned  unwillingly;  and,  after  the 
dead  were  burnt,  again  addressed  her  chiefs,  and  solic- 
ited them,  one  by  one,  to  accompany  her  to  storm  the 
Mahommedan  camp :  none  of  them,  however,  had  the 
spirit  to  second  her  in  this  daring  enterprise.  They 
vainly  imagined  that  the  enemy  would  of  their  own 
accord  evacuate  the  country. 

"  The  Omrahs  of  Gurrah  soon  found  that  they  were 
fatally  frustrated  in  their  hopes.  Asaph  Chan,  to  wipe 
away  the  disgrace  which  he  sustained  the  day  before, 
and  finding  what  enemy  he  had  to  deal  with,  advanced 
in  the  morning  towards  the  queen  with  his  artillery; 
which,  in  the  preceding  action,  he  had  left  behind  him, 
on  account  of  the  badness  of  the  roads.  The  queen, 
upon  Asaph's  approach,  advanced  to  a  narrow  pass  and 
prepared  to  oppose  him.  The  Mogul,  scouring  the  pass 
with  his  artillery,  soon  opened  to  himself  a  way  into 
the  plain  beyond  it,  where  the  queen's  army  was  drawn 
up  in  order  of  battle.  Raja  Bier  Shaw,  the  que"en's  son, 
a  young  prince  of  great  hopes,  as  soon  as  the  Mahom- 
medan army  came  into  the  plain,  made  a  resolute  charge, 
and  exhibited  prodigies  of  valor.  He  repulsed  the  enemy 
twice,  but  in  the  third  attack,  being  wounded,  he  became 
faint  with  loss  of  blood.  When  he  was  just  falling  from 
his  horse,  his  mother,  who  was  mounted  on  an  elephant, 
in  the  front  of  the  battle,  observed  her  son  ready  to  expire. 
She  immediately  called  to  some  of  her  people  to  carry 
him  back  to  the  rear :  many  of  them  accordingly  crowded 


COURAGE    AND   PRESENCE    OF   MIND.  3ll 

around  him,  some  with  a  friendly  intention  to  serve  him, 
but  more  to  have  an  opportunity  to  quit  the  field.  The 
loss  of  the  Raja,  in  short,  together  with  the  retreat  of  so 
many  of  his  body,  struck  a  panic  into  the  rest,  so  that 
the  unfortunate  queen  was  left  with  only  three  hundred 
men  in  the  field.  The  heroine,  however,  seemed  in  no 
way  affected  by  her  desperate  situation ;  she  stood  her 
ground  with  her  former  fortitude,  till  she  received  an 
arrow  in  her  eye  ;  she  endeavored  to  extricate  it  from 
the  wound,  but  as  she  tugged  it,  part  of  the  steel  broke 
short,  and  remained  behind.  In  the  mean  time,  another 
arrow  passed  through  her  neck,  which  she  also  drew 
out ;  but  nature  sinking  under  the  pain,  a  dimness  swam 
before  her  eyes,  and  she  began  to  nod  from  side  to  side 
of  the  howdar.*  She,  however,  recovered  from  her 
fainting  by  degrees :  and  a  brave  officer  of  her  house- 
hold, by  name  Adhar,  who  drove  her  elephant,  and  singly 
repulsed  numbers  of  the  enemy  whithersoever  he  turned 
the  outrageous  animal,  begged  permission,  as  the  day 
was  now  irretrievable,  to  carry  the  queen  from  the  field. 
She  rejected  the  proposal  with  a  noble  disdain :  '  It  is 
true,'  said  she,  '  we  are  overcome  in  war,  but  shall  we 
ever  be  vanquished  in  honor  ?  Shall  we,  for  the  sake  of 
a  lingering  ignominious  life,  lose  that  reputation  and 
virtue  which  we  have  been  so  solicitous  to  acquire  ? 
No  :  let  your  gratitude  no\\  repay  that  service  for  which 
I  lifted  up  your  head,  and  which  I  now  require  at  your 
hands.  Haste,  I  say  ;  let  your  dagger  save  me  from  the 
crime  of  putting  a  period  to  my  own  existence.' 

"  Adhar  burst  into  tears,  and  begged,  that  as  the 
elephant  was  swift  of  foot,  he  might  be  permitted  to 
eave  the  field,  and  carry  her  to  a  place  of  safety.  In 

*  A  wooden  tower  on  the  back  of  the  elephant. 


312  COURAGE    AND   PRESENCE    OF   MIND. 

ihe  mean  lime,  the  queen,  finding  that  the  enemy  crowded 
fast  around  her,  and  that  she  must  be  taken  prisoner, 
suddenly  leaning  forward,  seized  the  dagger  of  Adhar, 
and  plunging  it  into  her  bosom,  expired.  The  death  of 
Durgautti  rendered  Asaph  Chan's  victory  complete.  Six 
Hindoo  chiefs,  upon  their  elephants,  still  stood  firm :  and 
ashamed  of  being  outdone  by  a  woman,  dedicated  their 
ves  to  revenge  the  death  of  the  queen." 


"WRAGEOUS    CONDUCT    OF    THE     DUCHESS    OF 
FERRARA. 

"  Faithful  friend, 
Amidst  the  many  faithless  !  " 

"  THE  Duchess  of  Ferrara,  daughter  of  Louis  the 
!*elfth,  distinguished  herself  by  her  presence  of  mind 
end  heroism. 

"The  first  Prince  of  Conde  had  been  imprisoned 
through  the  intrigues  of  the  Duke  of  Guise,  but  his  con- 
v>rt,  having  gained  admittance  to  his  prison,  changed 
dresses  with  him,  and,  thus  attired,  the  prince  effected 
his  escape,  while  his  faithful  wife  remained  a  prisoner 
m  his  stead.  The  prince 'fled  for  refuge  to  the  fortress 
of  Montargis  which  belonged  to  the  Duchess  of  Ferrara, 
who  had  interested  herself  greatly  in  his  behalf.  The 
Duke  of  Guise,  being  unable  to  discover  his  retreat,  set 
the  Princess  of  Conde  at  liberty,  concluding,  natu- 
rally enough,  that  she  would  'tin  her  husband,  and  thus 
afford  his  emissaries  an  opportunity  of  discovering  his 
asylum.  The  duke  was  right  in  his  conjectures;  the 
princess  hastened  to  her  husband,  and  thus  innocently 
betrayed  his  "etreat.  The  Duke  of  Guise,  on  learning 
that  it  was  the  Duchess  of  Ferrara  who  had  afford*-! 


COURAGE  AND  PRESENCE  OF  MIND.        313 

shelter  to  the  prince,  despatched  orders  for  her  to  deliver 
him  up ;  but  on  an  absolute  refusal  being  returned  from 
the  duchess  in  answer,  the  king,  Francis  the  Second, 
was  so  much  irritated,  that  he  directed  all  the  troops  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Montargis  to  assemble,  under  the 
Count  de  Malicourt,  whom  he  ordered  to  invest  the  castle, 
and  bring  him  the  prince,  dead  or  alive. 

"  In  obedience  to  these  commands,  the  count  suddenly 
appeared  before  Montargis  with  a  large  body  of  troops 
and  a  formidable  train  of  artillery.  A  trumpeter  was 
despatched  to  the  duchess,  with  threats  of  instantly  lay- 
ing the  castle  in  ashes  if  she  did  not  put  the  troops  in 
possession  of  her  illustrious  guests.  The  alarm  of  the 
guards  and  dependants  of  the  duchess,  on  learning 
this  terrific  intelligence,  was  such,  that  they  crowded 
round  the  duchess,  and  earnestly  besought  her  to  acqui- 
esce in  the  count's  demand.  She  repelled  them  with 
indignation  ;  but  the  gallant  Conde,  who  had  overheard 
their  entreaties,  rushed  from  his  chamber,  and  address- 
ing himself  to  the  duchess'  followers,  said,  'You  tremble, 
and  Conde  is  at  your  head !  since  you  have  not  courage 
to  defend  him,  his  death  shall  relieve  you  from  your 
apprehensions.'  While  he  spoke,  he  proceeded  to  mount 
the  ramparts,  determined  to  stand  the  fury  of  the  first 
charge  of  cannon.  With  a  loud  voice  he  called  to  the 
officer  who  commanded  the  artillery  under  the  walls, 
1  Behold,'  said  he,  '  the  object  of  your  search  ;  direct  your 
vengeance  upon  him  alone,  and  let  him  die,  as  he  has 
lived,  with  honor.'  The  officer,  astonished  at  this  unex- 
pected circumstance,  sent  to  the  Count  de  Malicourt,  who 
was  at  a  littb  distance,  for  his  instructions.  The  latter, 
riding  up,  ordered  him  to  fire,  according  to  the  prince's 
request,  when  the  Duchess  of  Ferrara,  appearing  on  the 
27 


.    14  COURAGE    AND    PRESENCE    OF    MIND. 

\valls,  took  the  prince  by  the  hand,  and  threw  herself 
before  him.  '  Turn  your  fury  upon  me,'  said  she  to  the 
count,  '  and  destroy  at  one  instant  the  illustrious  Conde, 
and  the  daughter  of  your  long-lamented  king.' 

"  The  memory  of  Louis  the  Twelfth  was  idolized  by 
the  soldiers,  and  almost  with  one  voice  they  called  to  the 
engineer,  who  was  putting  the  match  to  the  cannon,  to 
stop,  and  then  bade  the  count  to  respect  the  daughter  of 
him  who  had  been  the  father  of  his  people ;  and,  with 
the  utmost  astonishment,  Malicourt  beheld  them  after- 
wards turn  their  backs  on  the  castle,  and  march  to  theii 
different  quarters. 

"The  generous  duchess  was  amply  repaid  for  her 
exertions  by  the  safe  escape  of  the  prince,  who  departed 
from  his  benefactress  the  same  night  with  a  few  friends, 
and  having  joined  a  large  body  of  the  Huguenots,  after- 
wards defeated  the  king's  troops  in  several  battles." 


NOBLE  RESOLUTION  OF  CONSTANCE  DE  CEZELLI. 

"Who  shall  find  a  valiant  woman?  The  price  of 
her  is  as  things  brought  from  afar  off,  and  from  the  ut- 
termost coast.  The  heart  of  her  husband  trusteth  in 
her."  —  PROVERBS. 

THE  town  of  Leucates,  in  Languedoc,  being  besieged 
by  the  faction  of  the  League  in  1590,  M.  de  Barri,  who 
was  the  governor,  was  taken  prisoner,  under  pretence  of 
demanding  an  interview  with  him.  He,  however,  con- 
trived at  the  moment  to  write  to  Constance  de  Cezelli, 
his  wife,  whose  talents  and  courage  he  was  well  ac- 
quainted with.  He  begged  her  to  take  the  command  of 
the  town,  and  to  defend  it  to  the  last  extremity.  Not 
losing  a  moment's  time,  she  obeyed  him,  maintaining 
order,  and  showing  herself  often  upon  the  walls  with  a 


COURAGE    AND   PRESENCE    OF   MIND.  316 

pike  in  her  hand,  encouraging  the  garrison  by  her  exam- 
ple. When  the  assailants  perceived  her  plans  and  intre« 
pidity,  they  sought  to  intimidate  her  by  threatening  to 
put  her  husband  to  death,  if  she  did  not  give  up  the 
place.  She  had  large  possessions,  and  offered  all  wil- 
lingly to  ransom  him ;  but  said  she  would  not  buy  even 
his  life  by  an  act  of  perfidy  at  which  he  would  blush. 
They  put  him  likewise  to  the  most  cruel  tortures,  that 
he  might  be  thus  induced  to  command  his  wife  to  open 
the  gates  to  them ;  but  he  braved  their  menaces,  and, 
being  obliged  to  raise  the  siege,  they  put  their  cruel 
threat  into  execution,  and  strangled  him. 

On  receiving  this  news,  the  unfortunate  Constance 
was  struck  with  grief  and  horror;  but,  feeling  that  a 
Christian  must  not  give  way  to  vengeance,  she  opposed 
the  wishes  of  the  garrison  to  make  reprisals  on  some 
gentlemen  who  were  their  prisoners,  and,  in  the  hour  of 
anguish,  exerted  herself  to  save  their  lives. 

Henry  the  Fourth,  who  knew  how  to  recompense 
great  actions,  sent  Constance  a  commission  to  continue 
governor  of  Leucate,  an  office  which  she  held  twenty- 
seven  years,  with  a  reversion  in  favor  of  her  son. 


INSTANCES  OF  FEMALE  COURAGE,  IN  FRANCE. 

"  Nor  com'st  thou  but  by  Heaven ;  nor  com'st  alone ; 
Some  god  impels  with  courage  not  thy  own : 
No  human  hand  the  weighty  gates  unbarred, 
Nor  could  the  boldest  of  our  youth  have  dared 
To  pass  our  outworks,  or  elude  the  guard." 

POPE'S  HOMEH. 

AT  the  eventful  period  of  the  Fronde,  many  French 
Ladies  distinguished  themselves  by  acts  of  courage  and 
heroism. 

"  Mademoiselle  d'Orleans,  known  better  by  the  name 


316  COURAGE   AND   PRESENCE    OF   MIND. 

of  Montpensier,  accompanied  the  royal  army  to  Orleans; 
opened  herself  a  passage  into  the  city,  and,  by  her  reso- 
lution and  eloquence,  prevailed  on  the  wavering  inhab- 
itants to  espouse  the  cause  of  the  Fronde.  Soon  after,  she 
rescued  the  great  Conde,  who  had  been  defeated  by  the 
Marshal  Turenne,  by  hastening  with  the  citizens  of  Paris 
to  his  aid,  opening  the  gates  of  the  city,  and  causing  the 
guns  of  the  Bastile  to  be  fired  on  the  troops  of  the  king." 
"Not  less  bold  was  the  determination  of  Mademoiselle 
de  Chevreuse,  who,  when  the  great  Conde,  the  Prince  di 
Conti,  and  the  Dukes  de  Beaufort  and  de  Nemours,  were 
assembled  in  the  library  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  adopted 
the  ingenious  expedient  of  turning  -the  key  on  them,  and 
thus  made  them  her  prisoners." 


A  FORTRESS  DEFENDED  BY  WOMEN. 
"  Courage  our  greatest  fid-ings  does  supply  I" 

LORD  KAMES,  in  his  "  Sketches  of  the  History  o* 
Man,"  relates  an  extraordinary  instance  of  presence  of 
mind  united  with  courage. 

"  Some  Iroquois,  in  the  year  1690,  attacked  the  fort 
de  Vercheres,  in  Canada,  which  belonged  to  the  French, 
and  had  approached  silently,  hoping  to  scale  the  pali- 
sade, when  some  musket-shot  forced  them  to  retire ;  on 
their  advancing  a  second  time,  they  were  again  repulsed 
in  wonder  and  amazement  that  they  could  perceive  nc 
person,  excepting  a  woman,  who  was  seen  everywhere. 
This  was  Madame  de  Vercheres,  who  conducted  herself 
with  as  much  resolution  and  courage  as  if  supported  by 
a  numerous  garrison.  The  idea  of  storming  a  place 
wholly  undefended,  except  by  women,  occasioned  the 
Iroquois  to  attack  the  fortress  repeatedly,  but,  after  two 


COURAGE  AND  PRESENCE  OF  MIND.       317 

days'  siege,  they  found  it  necessary  to  retire,  lest  they 
should  be  intercepted  in  their  retreat. 

"  Two  years  afterwards,  a  party  of  the  same  nation  so 
unexpectedly  made  their  appearance  before  the  same  fort, 
that  a  girl  of  fourteen,  the  daughter  of  the  proprietor, 
had  but  just  time  to  shut  the  gate.  With  this  young 
woman  there  was  no  person  whatever,  except  one  soldier , 
but  not  at  all  intimidated  by  her  situation,  she  showed 
herself  sometimes  in  one  place,  sometimes  in  another, 
frequently  changing  her  dress,  in  order  to  give  some 
appearance  of  a  garrison,  and  always  fired  opportunely. 
In  short,  the  faint-hearted  Iroquois  once  more  departed 
without  success.  Thus,  the  presence  of  mind  of  this 
young  girl  was  the  means  of  saving  the  fort." 


SINGULAR   ADVENTURE    OF   MADAME    DESHOU- 
LIERES. 

"  I  have  a  thousand  spirits  in  one  breast, 
To  answer  twenty  thousand  such  as  you." 

SHAKSPEARE. 

"  MADAME  DESHOULIERES,  the  celebrated  French  poet- 
ess, was  at  one  time  on  a  visit  at  the  Chateau  of  the 
Count  and  Countess  de  Luneville.  Upon  her  arrival, 
she  was  requested  to  make  her  choice  of  all  the  bed- 
rooms in  the  mansion,  one  only  excepted,  which  no  one 
was  permitted  to  enter,  as  a  report  had  been  circulated 
that  it  was  a  haunted  apartment,  and,  from  the  strange 
noises  that  had  been  frequently  heard  at  night  in  it,  it 
was  generally  believed  to  be  the  case,  by  the  inhabitants 
of  the  chateau.  Madame  Deshoulieres  was  no  sooner 
made  acquainted  with  this  circumstance,  than,  to  the 
lurprise  and  terror  of  her  friends,  she  decla  'ed  her  inten- 
27* 


318  COURAGE    AND    PRESENCE    OF   MIND. 

lion  of  occupying  this  dreaded  room  in  preference  to  any 
ether.  The  count  looked  aghast,  as  she  disclosed  thh 
determination,  and,  in  a  tremulous  voice,  entreated  her 
not  to  be  so  rash,  since,  however  brave  curiosity  might, 
at  present,  make  her,  it  was  probable  that  she  would  pay 
too  dearly  for  its  gratification. 

"  The  countess,  observing  that  all  that  her  husband 
said  failed  of  intimidating  the  high-spirited  Madame 
Deshou-lieres,  now  added  her  persuasions  to  divert  her 
friend  from  the  enterprise,  from  which  the  bravest  man 
might  shrink  appalled.  All  the  arguments  that  could  be 
urged  were  insufficient  to  shake  the  determined  purpose 
of  the  adventurer.  Her  courage  was  superior  to  these 
representations  of  the  dangers  to  which  she  was  going 
to  expose  herself,  because  she  was  convinced  that  they 
must  owe  their  coloring  to  superstition,  acting  upon  weak 
minds :  she  entertained  no  faith  in  the  fleshy  arm  of  a 
departed  spirit,  and  from  an  immaterial  one  her  life  was 
safe.  Her  noble  host  and  hostess  pleaded,  pitied,  blamed, 
but  at  length  yielded  to  her  wish  of  taking  possession  of 
the  haunted  chamber.  Madame  Deshoulieres  found  it 
grand  and  spacious,  —  the  windows  dark,  from  the  thick- 
ness of  the  walls, — the  chimney  antique,  and  of  cavernous 
depth.  As  soon  as  madame  was  undressed,  she  stepped 
into  bed,  ordered  a  large  candle  to  be  placed  in  the  bracket, 
which  stood  in  a  stand  near  it,  and  enjoining  her  femme- 
de-chambre  to  shut  the  door  securely,  dismissed  her. 
Having  provided  herself  with  a  book,  according  to  cus- 
tom, she  calmly  read  her  usual  time,  and  then  sunk  to 
repose.  She  was  soon  roused  by  a  noise  at  the  door ;  it 
opened,  and  the  sound  of  footsteps  succeeded.  Madame 
Deshoulieres  immediately  decided  that  this  must  be  the 
supposed  ghost,  dnd,  therefore,  addressed  it  with  the 


COURAGE    AND   PRESENCE    OF   MIND.  319 

assurance  that,  if  it  hoped  to  frighten  her  from  her  pur- 
pose ,  of  detecting  the  impostor  which  had  excited  such 
foolish  alarm  throughout  the  castle,  it  would  find  itself 
disappointed  in  the  attempt,  for  she  was  resolutely  bent 
upon  penetrating  and  exposing  it,  at  all  hazards.  No 
answer  was  returned ;  the  threat  was  reiterated,  but  all 
to  no  purpose.  At  length  the  intruder  came  in  contact 
with  a  large  screen,  which  it  overturned  so  near  the  bed, 
that,  getting  entangled  in  the  curtains,  which  played 
loosely  on  the  rings,  they  returned  a  sound  so  sharp,  that 
one  under  the  influence  of  fear  would  have  taken  it  for 
the  shrill  scream  of  an  unquiet  spirit ;  but  madame  was 
perfectly  undismayed,  as  she  afterwards  declared.  On 
the  contrary,  she  continued  to  interrogate  the  nocturnal 
visitor,  whom  she  suspected  to  be  one  of  the  domestics  ; 
but  it  still  maintained  an  unbroken  silence,  though  nothing 
could  be  less  quiet  in  its  movements,  for  now  it  ran  against 
the  stand  on  which  stood  the  heavy  candle  and  candle- 
stick, which  fell  with  a  thundering  noise.  At  length, 
tired  of  all  these  exertions,  it  came  and  rested  itself  at 
the  foot  of  the  bed.  Madame  Deshoulieres,  still  retain- 
ing her  self-possession,  immediately  exclaimed,  '  Ah ! 
now  I  shall  ascertain  what  thou  art ! '  at  the  same  time 
she  extended  both  her  hands  towards  the  place  against 
which  she  felt  that  the  intruder  was  resting.  They  came 
in  contact  with  two  ears,  soft  as  velvet,  which  she  firmly 
grasped,  determined  to  retain  her  hold  until  the  morning 
should  lend  its  light  to  discover  to  whom  or  to  what  they 
belonged.  Day  at  length  released  her  from  the  awkward 
and  painful  position  in  which  she  had  remained  for  many 
hours,  and  discovered  her  prisoner  to  be  Gros  Blanc,  a 
large  dog  belonging  to  the  chateau,  and  as  worthy,  if 
frith  and  honesty  deserve  the  title,  as  any  of  its  inhab- 


320  COURAGE   AND   PRESENCE   OF   MIND. 

itants.  Far  from  resenting  the  bondage  in  which 
Madame  Deshoulieres  had  so  long  kept  him,  he  licked 
her  hands,  while  she  enjoyed  a  hearty  .augh  at  this 
ludicrous  end  of  an  adventure,  for  the  encounter  of 
which  she  had  braced  every  nerve. 

"  In  the  mean  time,  the  count  and  countess,  wholly 
given  up  to  their  fears,  had  found  it  impossible  to  close 
their  eyes  during  the  night.  The  trial  to  which  their 
friend  had  exposed  herself  grew  more  terrible  to  their 
imagination,  the  more  they  dwelt  upon  it,  till  they  at 
length  persuaded  themselves  that  death  would  be  the 
inevitable  consequence.  With  these  forebodings,  they 
proceeded,  as  soon  as  it  was  light,  to  the  apartment  of 
Madame  Deshoulieres ;  scarcely  had  they  courage  to 
enter  it,  or  to  speak  when  they  had  done  so. 

"  From  this  state  of  petrifaction  they  were  relieved 
by  their  friend  undrawing  her  curtains,  and  paying  them 
the  compliment  of  the  morning,  with  a  triumphant  look. 
She  then  related  all  that  had  passed,  with  an  impressive 
solemnity ;  and,  having  roused  intense  curiosity  to  know 
the  catastrophe,  she  said, '  Monsieur,  you  shall  no  longer 
continue  in  an  illusion  which  long  indulgence  has 
endeared  to  you.  There  (pointing  to  Gros  Blanc)  is  the 
nocturnal  visitor  whom  you  have  so  long  taken  for  the 
ghost  of  your  mother ; '  for  such  the  count  had  concluded 
it  to  be,  from  his  mother  having  been  the  last  person 
who  died  at  the  chateau.  '  I  will  now,'  continued  the 
heroic  lady,  '  complete  my  task,  and  emancipate  your 
mind  from  the  shackles  of  superstition,  by  proving  to 
you  that  all  which  has  so  long  disturbed  the  peace  of 
your  family  has  arisen  from  natural  causes.'  Madame 
arose,  and  made  her  friends  examine  the  lock  of  the 
door,  the  wood  of  which  was  so  decayed  as  to  rendel 


COTTRAGE   AND   PRESENCE    OF  MIND.  321 

the  locking  of  it  useless,  against  a  very  moderate  degree 
of  strengtn.  This  facility  of  entrance  had  been,  evi- 
dently, the  cause  of  Gros  Blanc,  who  liked  not  sleeping 
out  of  doors,  making  choice  of  this  room.  The  rest  is 
easily  accounted  for ;  Gros  Blanc  smelt  and  wished  to 
possess  himself  of  the  candle,  in  attempting  which,  he 
committed  all  the  blunders,  and  caused  all  the  noises, 
which  had  disturbed  the  silence  of  the  night;  and  he 
would  have  taken  possession  of  the  bed  also,  if  he  had 
not  given  the  lady  an  opportunity  of  seizing  his  ears. 
Thus  are  the  most  simple  events  magnified  into  omens 
of  fearful  and  supernatural  agency,  while  the  conduct 
of  Madame  Deshoulieres  affords  one  example,  among 
many  others,  of  the  superiority  which  presence  of  mind 
and  courage  possess  over  superstition  and  credulity." 


PRESENCE   OF  MIND   OF  MISS  BAELLY. 

"  Honor  and  shame  from  no  condition  rise  ; 
Act  well  your  part,  there  all  the  honor  lies."  — POPE. 

A  FEW  days  before  the  battle  of  Falkirk,  so  disastrous 
to  the  English  army,  Lord  Loudon  made  a  bold  attempt 
to  seize  the  Pretender,  at  Moy,  the  account  of  which  is 
thus  narrated  by  the  Chevalier  Johnstone  :  — 

"  On  the  16th  of  February,  the  prince  slept  at  Moy,  a 
castle  belonging  to  the  chief  of  the  clan  of  Mackintosh, 
about  two  leagues  from  Inverness.  Lord  Loudon,  lieu- 
tenant-general in  the  service  of  King  George,  and  colonel 
of  a  regiment  of  Highlanders,  being  at  Inverness,  with 
about  two  thousand  regular  troops,  the  prince  intended 
to  await  the  arrival  of  the  other  columns  before  approach- 
ing nearer  to  that  town.  In  the  meati  time,  Lord  Loudon 
formed  the  project  of  seizing  by  surprise  the  person  of 


322  COURAGE   AND   PRESENCE   OF  MIND. 

the  prince,  who  could  have  no  suspicion  of  any  attempt 
of  the  kind,  conceiving  himself  in  perfect  security  at 
Moy;  and  his  lordship  would  have  succeeded  in  this 
design,  hut  for  the  intervention  of  that  invisible  Being 
who  frequently  chooses  to  manifest  his  power  in  over- 
turning the  best  contrived  schemes  of  feeble  mortals. 
His  lordship,  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  posted 
guards,  and  a  chain  of  sentinels,  all  round  Inverness, 
both  within  and  without  the  town,  with  positive  orders 
not  to  suffer  any  person  to  leave  it,  on  any  pretext  what- 
ever, or  whatever  the  rank  of  the  person  might  be.  He 
ordered,  at  the  same  time,  fifteen  hundred  men  to  hold 
themselves  in  readiness  to  march  at  a  moment's  warning ; 
and  having  assembled  this  body  of  troops  without  noise, 
and  without  alarming  the  inhabitants,  he  put  himself  at 
their  head,  and  instantly  set  off,  planning  his  march  so 
as  to  arrive  at  the  castle  of  Moy  about  eleven  o'clock  at 
night. 

"  While  some  English  officers  were  drinking  in  the 
house  of  Mrs.  Bailly,  an  innkeeper  in  Inverness,  and 
passing  the  time  till  the  hour  of  their  departure,  her 
daughter,  a  girl  of  about  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  of 
age,  who  happened  to  wait  on  them,  paid  great  atten- 
tion to  their  conversation,  and  from  certain  expressions 
dropped  from  them,  she  discovered  their  designs.  As 
soon  as  this  generous  girl  was  certain  as  to  their  inten- 
tions, she  immediately  left  the  house,  escaped  from  the 
town,  notwithstanding  the  vigilance  of  the  sentinels,  and 
took  the  road  to  Moy,  running  as  fast  as  she  was  able, 
without  shoes  or  stockings,  which,  to  accelerate  her  pro- 
gress, she  had  taken  off,  in  order  to  inform  the  prince  of 
the  danger  that  menaced  him.  She  reached  Moy,  quite 
.jut  of  breath,  before  Lord  Loudon  ;  and  the  prince  with 


COURAGE  AND  PRESENCE  OF  MIND.        323 

difficulty  escaped,  in  bis  robe-de-chambre,  nightcap,  and 
slippers  to  the  neighboring  mountains,  where  he  passed 
the  night  in  concealment.  This  dear  girl,  to  whom  the 
prince  owed  his  life,  was  in  great  danger  of  losing  her 
own,  from  her  excessive  fatigue  on  this  occasion ;  but, 
by  the  care  and  attentions  she  experienced,  her  health 
was  reestablished." 

NOBLE   TRAIT  OF  INSTINCTIVE   COURAGE. 

"  If  it  be  aught  toward  the  general  good, 
Set  honor  in  one  eye,  and  death  i'  the  other, 
And  I  will  look  on  both  indifferently ; 
For  let  the  gods  so  speed  me  as  I  love 
The  name  of  honor  more  than  I  fear  death." 

SIIAKSPEARK. 

DUMONT,  in  his  Narrative  of  a  Thirty-four  Years' 
Slavery  and  Travels  in  Africa,  relates  the  following 
anecdote :  — 

"  During  the  siege  of  Gibraltar,  in  1782,  the  Count 
d'Artois  came  to  St.  Koch,  to  visit  the  place  and  works. 
While  his  highness  was  inspecting  the  lines,  in  company 
with  the  Duke  de  Crillon,  they  both  alighted  with  their 
suite,  and  all  lay  flat  upon  the  ground,  to  avoid  the  effects 
of  a  bomb  that  fell  near  a  part  of  the  barracks  where  a 
French  woman  had  a  canteen.  This  woman,  who  had 
two  children  on  her  arm  at  the  time,  rushed  forth  with 
them,  and  having  seated  herself,  with  the  utmost  sang- 
froid, on  the  bomb-shell,  she  put  out  the  match,  thus 
extricating  from  danger  all  that  were  around  her,  many 
of  whom  witnessed  this  courageous  and  devoted  act.  His 
highness  rewarded  this  intrepid  female  by  bestowing 
on  her  a  pension  of  three  francs  a  day,  and  engaged  to 
promote  her  husband  after  the  siege ;  while  the  Duke  de 
Crillon,  imitating  the  generous  example  of  the  prince, 
insured  to  her,  likewise,  a  daily  payment  of  five  francs." 


COURAGE    AND    PRESENCE    OF    MIND. 


FAITHFUL  ATTACHMENT  OF  A  NEGRESS. 
"  Oh,  Heaven,  the  deep  fidelity  of  love '  " 

A  MELANCHOLY  example  of  the  faithful  affection  of 
a  foster-mother  for  the  infant  intrusted  to  her  care 
occurred  in  the  year  1770,  at  the  time  of  the  dreadful 
earthquake  which  made  such  ravages  in  the  island  of 
St.  Domingo. 

"  A  negress  of  Port-au-Prince  found  herself  alone,  in 
the  house  of  her  master  and  mistress,  with  their  youngest 
child,  whom  she  nursed.  The  house  shook  to  its  found- 
ation. Every  one  had  taken  flight;  she  alone  could 
not  escape,  without  leaving  her  infant  charge  in  danger. 
The  faithful  negress  flew  to  the  chamber,  where  it  lay  in 
the  most  profound  sleep ;  at  that  moment  the  walls  of 
the  house  fell  in :  anxious  only  for  the  safety  of  her 
foster-child,  she  threw  herself  over  it,  and,  serving  as  a 
sort  of  arch,  saved  it  from  destruction.  The  child  was 
indeed  saved;  but  the  unfortunate  negress  died  soon 
after,  the  victim  of  her  fidelity." 

UNEXAMPLED  ACT  OF  SELF-DEVOTION. 

"  All  like  the  purchase ;  few  the  price  will  pay, 
And  this  makes  friends  such  miracles  below. 
A  friend  is  worth  all  hazards  we  can  run, 
'  Poor  is  the  friendless  master  of  a  world  ; 
A  world  in  purchase  for  a  friend,  is  gain.'  " — YOUNG. 

AN  unexampled  instance  of  self-devotion  and  presence 
of  mind  was  manifested  by  a  maid-servant,  during  the 
war  in  La  Vendee. 

"  The  wife  of  Lepinai,  a  general  in  the  Vendean  army, 
was  imprisoned  at  Nantes,  and  attended  by  a  young  girl, 
a  native  of  Chatellerault.  so  faithfully  attached  to  the 


COURAGE   AND   PRESENCE   OF   MIND.  325 

service  of  her  mistress,  that  she  had  followed  her  to 
prison.  One  day  the  soldiers  arrived,  to  summon  the 
prisoners  who  were  destined  to  death  :  this  faithful  girl 
heard  Madame  Lepinai  called,  who  had  but  an  instant 
before  retired  to  her  chamber.  Glad  of  such  an  oppor- 
tunity to  save  the  life  of  her  beloved  mistress,  she  pre- 
sented herself,  and  answered  to  the  name.  The  affec- 
tionate creature  was  instantly  led  away  with  the  other 
prisoners,  and  precipitated  among  the  waves  of  the  Loire, 
in  the  place  of  Madame  Lepinai." 


THE   MAID  OF  SARRAGOSSA. 

"  Verse,  like  the  laurel,  its  immortal  meed, 
Should  be  the  guerdon  of  a  noble  deed."  —  COWPEE. 

"  Is  it  for  this  the  Spanish  maid,  aroused, 
Hangs  on  the  willow  her  unstrung  guitar, 
And,  all  uusexed,  the  anlace  hath  espoused, 
Sung  the  loud  song,  and  dared  the  deed  of  war  ? 
And  she,  whom  once  the  semblance  of  a  scar 
Appalled,  an  owlet's  larum  chilled  with  dread, 
Now  views  the  column-scattering  bayonet  jar, 
The  falchion  flash,  and  o'er  the  yet  warm  dead 
Stalks  with  Minerva's  step  where  Mars  might  quake  to 
tread."  LORD  BVRON. 

"  AT  the  siege  of  Sarragossa,  in  the  year  1S09,  Augus- 
tina,  a  handsome  woman  about  twenty-two  years  of  age, 
of  the  lower  class  of  people,  distinguished  herself  in  the 
eyes  of  her  countrymen  by  her  undaunted  courage.  She 
was  carrying  refreshments  to  the  gates,  and  arrived  at 
the  battery  of  the  Portillo  at  the  very  moment  when  the 
French  fire  had  absolutely  destroyed  every  person  that 
was  stationed  in  it.  The  citizens  and  soldiers,  for  the 
moment,  hesitated  to  re-man  the  guns ;  Augustina  rushed 
forward  over  the  wounded  and  the  slain,  snatched  a  match 
from  the  hand  of  a  dead  artilleryman,  and  fired  off  a 
28 


326  COURAGE    AND   PRESENCE    OF    MIND. 

twenty-six  pounder,  —  then  jumping  upon  the  gun,  made 
a  solemn  vow  never  to  quit  it  alive  during  the  siege ; 
and  having  stimulated  her  fellow-citizens,  by  this  daring 
intrepidity,  to  fresh  exertions,  they  instantly  rushed  into 
the  battery,  and  again  opened  a  tremendous  fire  on  the 
enemy. 

"  For  her  heroism  on  this  occasion,  Augustina  after- 
wards received  the  surname  of  '  Sarragossa,'  a  pension 
from  the  government,  and  the  daily  pay  of  an  artillery- 
man ;  and,  at  the  time  Lord  Byron  was  at  Seville,  the 
Maid  of  Sarragossa  walked  daily  on  the  Prado,  decorated 
with  medals  and  orders,  by  command  of  tlfb  Junta." 


A  CHILD'S  LIFE  SAVED  BY  ITS  NURSE. 

"  From  lowest  place  when  virtuous  things  proceed, 
The  place  is  dignified  by  the  doer's  deed." 

SHAKSPEARE. 

"  A  SERVANT-MAID,  at  Munich,  signalized  herself  by 
her  singular  presence  of  mind.  She  was  in  a  garden, 
with  a  child  of  nine  months  old,  and  had  set  it  down  on 
the  ground,  when  suddenly  an  eagle  darted  from  the  air, 
to  seize  upon  it  as  a  prey.  This  young  woman,  who 
was  fortunately  close  by,  with  extraordinary  courage  and 
presence  of  mind,  threw  a  shawl  at  the  bird,  which 
covering  his  eyes,  not  only  prevented  him  from  seizing 
the  infant,  but  even  from  escaping :  she  boldly  caught 
lold  of  the  robber,  and  in  spite  of  his  struggles,  held  him 
fast,  till  some  persons  came  to  her  assistance.  His 
Majesty  amply  rewarded  the  heroine,  who  received  s«me 
wounds  in  the  contest,  and  sent  the  prisoner  te  ffe« 
menagerie  at  Nymphenburg-." 


COURAGE   AND   PRESENCE   OF  MIND.  327 

PRESENCE  OF  MIND  IN  A  SERVANT-GIRL. 
"  Courage,  prove  thy  chance  once  more ! " 

IN  the  Monthly  Magazine  of  the  year  1819  may  be 
Been  recorded  the  following  extraordinary  instance  of 
courage,  which  does  infinite  credit  both  to  the  head  and 
heart  of  its  heroine. 

"  A  half-idiot,  who  was  employed  by  a  grocer  residing 
at  Woodstock  or  Whitney,  was  told,  on  the  morning  of 
the  5th  of  November,  to  go  to  a  coffer  where  the  gun- 
powder was  kept,  and  bring  some  down,  and  put  it  into 
the  drawer,  to  supply  the  consumption  of  the  evening. 
The  man  forgot  the  order  till  it  grew  dusk,  when  he  took 
a  lighted  candle  in  his  hand,  which  he  inserted  in  the 
loose  powder,  and,  filling  the  measure,  walked  away. 

"  He  could  not  speak  intelligibly,  although  he  under- 
stood what  was  said  to  him;  he  was  accustomed  to  make 
his  meaning  known  by  signs.  Scarcely  had  he  emptied 
the  powder  into  the  drawer,  when  suddenly  recollecting 
what  had  been  done,  the  terrified  creature  made,  the 
most  frightful  noise,  displaying  every  mark  of  horror 
and  dismay ;  and  soon  made  his  master  and  the  family 
clearly  understand  that  he  had  left  a  burning  candle 
fixed  in  the  gunpowder. 

"  The  danger  was  so  appalling  that  riost  of  the  inmates 
fled :  but  the  servant-girl  entreated  her  master  not  to 
alarm  his  sick  wife;  and,  going  direct  to  the  chamber 
as  gently  as  possible,  approached  the  burning  candle. 
Closing  the  fingers  of  her  hands,  she  formed  a  kind  of 
candlestick,  and  lifting  the  candle  safely  out  of  the 
powder,  returned  with  it  to  her  master,  fainting  away 
fae  moment  she  reached  the  shop." 


328  COURAGE   AND   PRESENCE   OF   MIND. 

NARROW  ESCAPE  OF  THE  QUEEN  OF  PRUSSIA. 

"  She  '11  be  a  soldier  too,  she  '11  to  the  wars." 

SHAKSPEARI. 

AT  the  battle  of  Jena,  a  few  minutes  before  the  com- 
mencement of  the  attack,  the  Queen  of  Prussia,  mounted 
on  a  superb  charger,  appeared  on  the  field  of  battle,  and 
accompanied  by  the  elite  of  the  youth  of  Berlin,  rode 
along  the  front  of  the  most  advanced  lines  of  the  Prussian 
army.  The  flags  which  her  own  hands  had  embroidered 
to  stimulate  the  troops,  together  with  those  which  had 
been  borne  in  the  armies  of  Frederick  the  Great,  and 
which  were  blackened  with  gunpowder,  were  lowered  at 
her  approach.  Shouts  of  enthusiasm  resounded  through 
the  Prussian  ranks.  The  atmosphere  was  so  clear,  and 
the  two  armies  were  so  close  to  each  other,  that  the 
French  could  plainly  discern  the  costume  of  the  royai 
amazon.  Her  singular  dress  was,  indeed,  the  chief 
cause  of  the  danger  she  incurred  in  her  flight.  On  her 
head  was  a  helmet  of  polished  steel,  shaded  by  a  superb 
plume.  The  rest  of  her  dress  consisted  of  a  cuirass, 
glittering  with  gold  and  silver,  and  a  tunic  of  silver 
brocade,  reaching  to  her  feet,  on  which  she  wore  red 
boots,  with  gold  spurs.  When  the  Prussian  army  was 
routed,  the  queen  remained  on  the  field,  attended  by 
three  or  four  men  of  her  escort,  who  had  defended  her. 
However,  a  small  party  of  hussars,  who  had  fought 
gloriously  during  the  battle,  rushed  forward  at  full 
gallop,  and  with  drawn  swords  dispersed  the  little  group. 
Startled  by  this  unexpected  attack,  the  horse  which  her 
Majesty  rode  darted  off  at  a  furious  gallop,  and  had  he 
not  possessed  the  fleetness  of  a  stag,  the  fair  queen 
would  infallibly  have  been  captured  by  the  French 


COURAGE    AND   PRfifeENCE    OF    MIND.  329 

nussars,  who  were  several  times  very  close  upon  her. 
The  queen,  thus  pursued,  arrived  within  sight  of  the 
gates  of  Weimar,  when  a  strong  detachment  of  dragoons 
was  seen  pursuing  her  at  full  speed.  The  commander 
of  the  detachment  had  orders  to  take  the  queen  at  all 
risks;  but  no  sooner  had  she  entered  Weimar  than  the 
gates  were  closed,  and  the  hussars  and  dragoons  returned 
disappointed  to  the  field  of  battle. 


HUMANE  ACT  OF  THE  HONORABLE  MISS  EDEN. 

"  What  cleaves  the  silent  air, 
So  mailly  shrill  —  so  passing  wild  ? " 

"  The  helpless  innocent !     And  must  he  die  ?  " 

MRS.  HANNAH  MORE 

THE  heroic  conduct  of  the  Honorable  Miss  Eden 
affords  an  admirable  example  of  courage  and  presence  of 
mind.  Some  years  ago,  several  children  were  playing 
on  the  banks  of  the  Thames  at  Hampton  Court,  when  a 
fine  boy,  the  son  of  a  laborer  named  Adams,  about  five 
or  six  years  of  age,  fell  into  the  river.  He  was  rapidly 
carried  down  the  stream  ;  the  little  fellow's  clothes,  how- 
ever, kept  him  floating  on  the  surface,  and  he  occasion 
ally  uttered  a  piercing  cry.  This  attracted  the  notice  of 
the  Honorable  Miss  Eden,  one  of  her  Majesty  Queen 
Adelaide's  maids  of  honor,  who  was  walking  in  the 
palace  gardens ;  and  seeing  the  struggles  of  the  child,  she 
immediately  leaped  over  the  high  wall,  and,  without  a 
moment's  consideration,  dashed  into  the  river.  She  had 
reached  within  a  few  feet  of  the  child,  when,  having  got 
beyond  her  depth,  she  was  carried  in  a  contrary  direc- 
tion. Luckily  she  again  recovered  her  footing,  but  the 
child  was  now  far  beyond  her  reach.  She  then  retraced 
2S* 


330  COURAGE   AND   PRESENCE    OF   MIND. 

her  steps  to  the  banks  of  the  river,  calling,  at  the  same 
time,  to  the  little  sufferer  to  keep  its  head  up,  and  she 
would  save  it.  Her  cries  at  last  aroused  the  ferryman  at 
Thames  Ditton,  for  by  this  time  the  child  and  Miss  Eden 
had  reached  nearly  opposite  to  that  village,  and  she  at 
length  saw  the  child's  body  rescued  from  the  flood.  It 
was  brought  ashore,  but  was  insensible.  She  had  it, 
however,  carried  up  to  the  palace,  and,  though  wet  to 
the  crown  of  her  head,  gave  every  necessary  direction 
for  the  medical  gentlemen  to  be  sent  for.  Notwithstandr 
ing  every  effort  was  persevered  in  for  more  than  an  hour, 
life  was  found  to  be  extinct.  At  an  inquest  subsequently 
held  on  the  body,  and  at  which  Miss  Eden  was  unable, 
it  was  stated,  to  attend,  in  consequence  of  a  severe  cold 
under  which  she  labored,  the  jury  brought  in  a  verdict 
of  "accidental  death;"  they  at  the  same  time  expressed 
the  highest  admiration  at  the  conduct  of  Miss  Eden, 
than  whom  no  person,  they  said,  was  more  worthy  of  the 
Humane  Society's  medal. 


THE  MILLER'S  MAID. 

"  Oh !  who  would  be  a  woman  ?  —  who  that  fool, 
A  weeping,  pining,  faithful,  loving  woman  ? 
She  hath  hard  measures  still  where  she  hopes  kindest, 
And  all  her  bounties  only  make  ingrates." 

Love's  Pilgrimage. 

"  NEAR  the  hamlet  of  Udorf,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Rhine,  not  far  from  Bonn,  there  yet  stands  the  mill 
which  was  the  scene  of  the  following  adventure  : — 

"  One  Sunday  morning,  the  miller  and  his  family  set 
out,  as  usual,  to  attend  service  at  the  nearest  church,  in 
the  village  of  Heasel,  leaving  the  mill,  to  which  the 
dwelling-house  was  attached,  in  charge  of  his  servant* 


COURAGE  AND  PRESENCE  OF  MIND.        331 

maid,  Hanchen,  a  bold-hearted  girl,  who  had  been  some 
time  in  his  service.  The  youngest  child,  who  was  still 
too  little  to  go  to  church,  remained  also  under  her  care. 
"  As  Hanchen  was  busily  engaged  in  preparing  dinner 
for  the  family,  she  was  interrupted  by  a  visit  from  her 
admirer,  Heinrich  Botteler.  He  was  an  idle,  graceless 
fellow,  and  her  master,  who  knew  his  character  well,  had 
forbidden  him  the  house  ;  but  Hanchen  could  not  believe 
all  the  stories  she  heard  against  her  lover,  and  was 
sincerely  attached  to  him.  On  this  occasion,  she  greeted 
him  kindly,  and  not  only  got  him  something  to  eat  at 
once,  but  found  time,  in  the  midst  of  her  business,  to  sit 
down  and  have  a  gossip  with  him,  while  he  did  justice 
to  the  fare  set  before  him.  As  he  was  eating,  he  let  fall 
his  knife,  which  he  asked  her  to  pick  up  for  him ;  she 
playfully  remonstrated,  telling  him  she  feared,  from  all 
she  heard,  he  did  little  enough  work,  and  ought  at  least 
to  wait  upon  himself.  In  the  end,  however,  she  stooped 
down  to  pick  up  the  knife,  when  the  treacherous  villain 
drew  a  dagger  from  under  his  coat,  and  caught  her  by 
the  nape  of  the  neck,  griping  her  throat  firmly  with  his 
fingers  to  prevent  her  screaming;  then,  with  an  oath,  he 
desired  her  to  tell  him  where  her  master  kept  his  money, 
threatening  to  kill  her  if  she  did  not  comply  with  his 
demand.  The  surprised  and  terrified  girl  in  vain 
attempted  to  parley  with  him ;  he  still  held  her  tightly 
in  his  choking  grasp,  leaving  her  no  other  choice  but  to 
die,  or  betray  her  master.  She  saw  there  was  no  hope 
of  softening  him,  or  changing  his  purpose,  and,  with  the 
full  conviction  of  his  treachery,  all  her  native  courage 
woke  in  her  bosom.  Affecting,  however,  to  yield  to  what 
was  inevitable,  she  answered  him,  in  a  resigned  tone,  that 
what  must  be,  must ;  only,  if  he  carried  off  her  master'* 


332  COURAGE    AND   PRESENCE    OF   MIND. 

gold,  he  must  take  her  with  him  too,  for  she  could  neve 
stay  to  bear  their  suspicions  and  reproaches ;  entreating 
him,  at  the  same  time,  to  relax  his  grasp  of  her  throat,  for 
she  could  hardly  speak,  much  less  do  what  he  bid  her, 
while  he  held  her  so  tight.  At  length  he  was  induced 
to  quit  his  hold,  on  her  reminding  him  that  he  must  lose 
no  time,  or  the  family  would  be  returning  from  church. 
She  then  led  the  way  to  her  master's  bed-room,  and 
showed  him  the  coflfer  where  he  kept  his  money. 
1  Here,'  she  said,  reaching  to  him  an  axe  which  lay  in  a 
corner  of  the  room,  '  you  can  open  it  with  this,  while  I 
run  up  stairs  to  put  all  my  things  together,  besides  the 
money  I  have  saved  since  I  have  been  here.' 

"  Completely  deceived  by  her  apparent  readiness  to 
enter  into  his  plans,  he  allowed  her  to  leave  the  room, 
only  exhorting  her  to  be  as  quick  as  possible,  and  was 
immediately  absorbed  in  his  own  operations,  first  opening 
the  box,  and  then  disposing  of  the  money  about  his  per- 
son. In  the  mean  while,  Hanchen,  instead  of  going  up 
stairs  to  her  own  room,  crept  softly  along  several 
passages,  till  she  again  reached  her  master's  chamber. 
It  was  the  work  of  a  moment  to  shut  and  bolt  the  door 
Mpon  him ;  and  this  done,  she  rushed  out  to  the  outer 
loor  of  the  mill,  to  give  the  alarm.  The  only  being  in 
sight  was  her  master's  little  boy,  a  child  of  five  years  old  ; 
to  him  she  called,  with  all  her  might,  '  Run !  —  run  to 
meet  your  father,  as  he  comes  from  church ;  tell  him  we 
shall  all  be  murdered,  if  he  does  not  come  back ! '  The 
frightened  child  did  as  she  bid  him,  and  set  off  running 
on  the  road  she  pointed  out. 

'•  Somewhat  relieved  by  seeing  that  the  child  under- 
stood   her,    and   would    make    her    case    known,  she 
down  for  a  moment  on  the  stone  seat  before   tha 


COURAGE    AND    PRESENCE    OF    MIND. 

door,  and,  full  of  conflitting  emotions  of  grief  and 
thankfulness  for  her  escape,  she  burst  into  tears.  But, 
at  this  moment,  a  shrill  whistle  aroused  her  attention 
it  was  from  her  prisoner,  Heinrich,  who,  opening  the 
grated  window  above  her  head,  shouted  to  some 
accomplice  without,  to  catch  the  child  that  was  running 
away  so  fast,  and  to  kill  the  girl.  Hanchen  looked  round 
in  great  alarm,  but  saw  no  one.  The  child  still  continued 
to  run  with  all  his  might,  and  she  hoped  that  it  was  but 
a  false  alarm,  to  excite  her  fear  and  overcome  her  resolu- 
tion ;  when,  just  as  the  child  reached  a  hollow  in  the 
next  field,  (the  channel  of  a  natural  drain,)  she  saw  a 
ruffian  start  up  from  the  bed  of  the  drain,  and  snatching 
up  the  child  in  his  arms,  hasten  with  him  towards  the 
mill,  in  accordance  with  the  directions  of  his  accomplice. 
In  a  moment  she  perceived  the  full  extent  of  her  danger, 
and  formed  her  plan  for  escaping  it. 

"  Retreating  into  the  mill,  she  double  locked  and 
bolted  the  door,  the  only  apparent  entrance  into  the 
building,  every  other  means  of  obvious  access  being 
prevented  by  strong  iron  gratings  fixed  up  against  all  the 
windows,  —  and  then  took  her  post  at  the  upper  case- 
ment, determined  to  await  patiently  her  master's  return, 
and  her  consequent  delivery  from  that  dangerous  posi- 
tion, or  her  own  death,  if,  indeed,  inevitable ;  for  she 
was  fully  resolved  to  enter  into  no  terms,  and  that 
nothing  should  induce  her  to  give  up  her  master's  prop- 
erty into  the  robbers'  hands.  She  had  hardly  had  time 
to  secure  herself  in  her  retreat,  when  the  ruffian,  holding 
the  screaming  child  in  his  arms,  and  brandishing  a  knife 
in  one  hand,  came  up,  and  bid  her  open  the  door,  or  he 
would  break  it  down,  adding  many  awful  oaths  and 
threats ;  to  which  her  only  answer  was,  that  she  put  hei 


334        COURAGE  AND  PRESENCE  OF  MIND. 

trust  in  God.  Heinrich,  who  from  his  window  was 
witness  of  this  colloquy,  now  called  out  to  cut  the  child's 
throat  before  her  eyes,  if  she  still  persisted  in  her 
refusal.  Poor  Hanchen's  heart  quailed  at  this  horrible 
threat ;  for  a  moment  her  resolution  failed,  but  only  for 
a  moment.  The  death  of  the  child  could  be  no  gain  to 
them,  while  her  own  death  was  certain  if  she  admitted 
the  assailant;  and  her  master,  too,  would  be  robbed. 
She  had  no  reason,  either,  to  suppose  that  her  compliance 
would  save  the  life  of  the  child.  It  was  to  risk  all 
against  nothing ;  and  she  resolved  to  hold  out  to 
the  last,  though  the  villain  from  without  renewed  his 
threats,  saying,  that  if  she  would  not  open  the  door  to 
him,  he  would  kill  the  child,  and  then  set  fire  to  the  mill 
over  her  head.  '  I  put  my  trust  in  God,'  was  still  the 
poor  girl's  answer. 

"  In  the  mean  while,  the  ruffian  set  down  the  child  for 
a  moment,  to  look  about  for  combustibles  to  carry  out  his 
threat ;  in  this  search,  he  discovered  a  mode  of  entering 
the  mill  unthought  of  by  Hanchen.  It  was  a  large 
aperture  in  the  wall,  communicating  with  the  great 
wheel,  and  the  other  machinery  of  the  mill;  and  it  was 
a  point  entirely  unprotected,  for  it  had  never  been  con- 
templated that  any  one  would  seek  to  enter  by  so 
dangerous  an  inlet.  Triumphant  at  this  discovery,  he 
returned  to  tie  the  hands  and  feet  of  the  poor  child,  to 
prevent  its  escape,  and  then  stole  back  to  the  aperture, 
by  which  he  intended  to  effect  an  entrance.  The  situa- 
tion of  the  building  prevented  Hanchen  from  seeing 
anything  of  this ;  but  a  thought  had  meanwhile  struck 
her.  It  was  Sunday,  when  the  mill  was  never  at  work ; 
if  therefore,  the  sails  were  seen  in  motion,  the  whole 
neighborhood  would  know  that  something  unusual  was 


COURAGE    AND   PRESENCE    OF   MIND.  335 

the  matter;  and  her  master,  especially,  would  hasten 
home  to  know  the  meaning  of  anything  so  strange. 

"  Being  all  her  life  accustomed  to  the  machinery  of 
the  mill,  it  was  the  work  of  a  moment  to  set  it  all  in 
motion  :  a  brisk  breeze,  which  sprung  up,  at  once  set  the 
sails  flying.  The  arms  of  the  huge  engine  whirled 
round  with  fearful*  rapidity;  the  great  wheel  slowly 
revolved  on  its  axle;  the  smaller  gear  turned,  and 
creaked,  and  groaned,  according  as  the  machinery  came 
into  action ;  the  mill  was  in  full  operation.  It  was  at 
this  moment  that  the  ruffian  intruder  had  succeeded  in 
squeezing  himself  through  the  aperture  in  the  wall,  and 
getting  himself  safely  lodged  in  the  interior  of  the  great 
drum-wheel.  His  dismay,  however,  was  indescribable, 
when  he  began  to  be  whirled  about  with  its  rotation,  and 
found  that  all  his  efforts  to  put  a  stop  to  the  powerful 
machinery  which  set  it  in  motion,  or  to  extricate  himself 
from  this  perilous  situation,  were  fruitless.  In  his  terror, 
he  uttered  shrieks  and  horrible  imprecations.  Aston- 
ished at  the  noise,  Hanchen  ran  to  the  spot,  and  saw 
him  caught  like  a  rat  in  his  own  trap,  from  which  it  was 
no  part  of  her  plan  to  liberate  him.  She  knew  he 
would  be  more  frightened  than  hurt,  if  he  kept  within 
his  rotatory  prison,  without  any  rash  attempt  at  escape; 
and  that,  even  if  he  became  insensible,  he  could  not  fall 
out  of  it. 

"  In  the  mean  time,  the  wheel  went  round  and  round 
with  its  steady,  unceasing  motion ;  and  round  and  round 
he  went  with  it,  while  sense  remained,  besieging  Han- 
chen with  entreaties,  promises,  and  wild,  impotent  threats, 
which  were  all  equally  disregarded,  till,  by  degrees, 
feeling  and  perception  failed  him,  and  he  saw  and  heard 
no  one.  He  fell  senseless  at  the  bottom  of  the  engine 


336  COURAGE    AND    PRESENCE    OF    MIND. 

but  even  then  his  inanimate  body  continued  to  be 
whirled  round  as  before ;  for  Hiinchen  did  not  dare  trust 
appearances  in  such  a  villain,  and  would  not  venture  to 
suspend  the  working  of  the  mill,  or  stop  the  mill-gear 
and  tackle  from  running  at  their  fullest  speed. 

"  At  length  she  heard  a  loud  knocking  at  the  door, 
and  flew  to  open  it.  It  was  her  master  and  his  family, 
accompanied  by  several  of  his  neighbors,  all  in  the 
utmost  excitement  and  wonder  at  seeing  the  mill-sails  in 
full  swing  on  a  Sunday,  and  still  more  when  they  had 
found  the  poor  child  lying  bound  upon  the  grass,  who, 
however,  was  too  terrified  to  give  them  any  account  of 
what  had  happened.  Hiinchen,  in  a  few  words,  told  all  ; 
and  then  her  spirit,  which  had  sustained  her  through 
such  scenes  of  terror,  gave  way  under  the  sense  of  safety 
and  relief,  and  she  fell  fainting  in  their  arms,  and  was 
with  much  difficulty  recovered.  The  machinery  of  the 
mill  was  at  once  stopped,  and  the  inanimate  ruffian 
dragged  from  his  dreadful  prison.  Heinrich,  too,  was 
brought  forth  from  the  miller's  chamber,  and  both  were, 
in  a  short  time,  sent  bound,  under  a  strong  escort,  to 
Bonn,  where  they  soon  after  met  the  reward  of  their 
crimes. 

"  The  story  of  this  extraordinary  act  of  presence  ot 
mind  concludes  by  telling  us  that  Hanchen,  thus  effect- 
ually cured  of  her  penchant  for  her  unworthy  suitor, 
became,  eventually,  the  wife  of  the  miller's  eldest  son, 
and  thus  lived  all  her  life  on  the  scene  of  her  imminent 
danger  and  happy  deliverance." 


HOSPITALITY. 


1NACADNA.  -  -  DUCHESS     OF    FERRARA. MRS.    GAUNT. HIGHLAND 

WIDOW. MRS.     GORDON.  AFRICAN      HOSPITALITY.  MADAMK 

BOUQUET. FAITHFUL     FRENCH     WOMAN. MADAME      PAYSAC. — 

MADAME  RUVILLY. 


"  Ask  the  gray  pilgrim,  by  the  surges  cast 
On  hostile  shores,  and  numbed  beneath  the  blast, 
Ask  who  revived  him  ?  who  the  hearth  began 
To  kindle  ?  who  with  spilling  goblet  ran  ? 
Oh  !  he  will  dart  one  spark  of  youthful  flame, 
And  clasp  his  withered  hands,  and  Woman  name." 

BARRETT. 

HOSPITALITY  has  ever  been  a  distinguishing  charac- 
teristic of  Woman;  compassion  not  only  graces  the 
educated  and  polished  European  lady,  but  is  equally 
inherent  in  the  bosom  of  the  wild,  unlettered  savage,  and 
their  distressed  fellow-creatures  find  a  ready  home  and 
shelter  with  both :  thus  the  shipwrecked  mariner  and  the 
wayworn  traveller,  surviving  their  perils,  return  to  their 
native  country  to  unite  theirs  to  the  many  testimonies 
already  received  of  the  charity  and  hospitality  of  the 
female  sex. 


TREACHEROUS  REWARD  OF  HOSPITALITY. 

"  Haste,  gentle  lady,  haste  —  there  waits 
A  noble  stranger  at  the  gates."  —  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 

WASHINGTON  IRVING,  in  his  Life  of  Columbus,  gives 
an  interesting  account  of  Anacaona,  widow  of  Caonabo, 
29 


U38  HOSPITALITY. 

who,  after  the  capture  of  her  husband  by  the  Spaniards, 
had  taken  refuge  with  her  brother,  the  Cacique  Behe- 
chio,  who  governed  the  province  of  Xaragua. 

On  the  death  of  Behechio,  Anacaona  succeeded  to  the 
government.  Her  magnanimous  spirit  was  evinced  in 
her  amicable  treatment  of  the  Spaniards,  towards  whom, 
notwithstanding  the  ruin  in  which  they  had  involved  her 
husband,  who  died  their  prisoner,  she  appears  to  have 
entertained  no  vindictive  feeling. 

Notwithstanding  the  friendly  behavior  of  Anacaona, 
Ovando,  the  Spanish  general,  imagined  that  there  was  a 
deep-laid  conspiracy  among  the  Indians  of  Xaragua  to 
rise  upon  the  Spaniards;  and  he  "  set  out  for  that 
province,  at  the  head  of  three  hundred  foot-soldiers, 
armed  with  swords,  arquebuses  and  crossbows,  and 
seventy  horsemen,  with  cuirasses,  bucklers  and  lances. 
He  pretended  that  he  was  going  on  a  mere  visit  to  Ana- 
caona, and  to  make  arrangement  about  the  payment  of 
tribute. 

"  When  Anacaona  heard  of  this  intended  visit,  she 
sent  to  all  her  tributary  caciques,  and  to  all  her  principal 
subjects,  to  assemble  at  her  chief  town,  that  they  might 
receive  the  commander  of  the  Spaniards  with  becoming 
homage  and  distinction.  As  Ovando,  at  the  head  of  his 
little  army,  approached,  she  went  forth  to  meet  him, 
according  to  the  custom  of  her  nation,  attended  by  a 
great  train  of  her  most  distinguished  subjects,  male  and 
female.  They  received  the  Spaniards  with  their  populai 
areytos,  their  national  songs  ;  the  young  women  waving 
palm-branches,  and  dancing  before  them. 

"  Anacaona  treated  the  governor  with  that  natural 
graciousness  and  dignity  for  which  she  was  celebrated. 
She  gave  him  the  largest  house  in  the  place  for  his 


HOSPITALITY.  33& 

residence,  and  his  people  were  quartered  in  the  houses 
adjoining.  For  several  days  the  Spaniards  were  enter- 
tained with  all  the  natural  luxuries  that  the  province 
afforded.  National  songs,  and  dances,  and  games,  were 
performed  for  their  amusement,  and  there  was  every 
outward  demonstration  of  the  same  hospitality,  the  same 
amity,  that  Anacaona  had  uniformly  shown  to  whit* 
men. 

"  Notwithstanding  all  this  kindness,  Ovando,  bein£ 
persuaded  that  Anacaona  secretly  meditated  a  massacre 
of  himself  and  his  followers,  resolved  to  anticipate  the 
supposed  plot  by  a  counter-artifice,  and  to  overwhelm 
this  defenceless  people  in  an  indiscriminate  and  bloody 
vengeance. 

"  He  accordingly  invited  the  Indians,  in  return,  to 
witness  certain  national  games  of  his  country;  and 
amongst  other  diversions  was  to  be  a  tilting  match,  or 
joust  with  reeds,  and  all  the  Spaniards  were  secretly 
instructed  to  arm  themselves  with  weapons  of  a  more 
deadly  character,  and  to  be  in  readiness  for  the  signal  of 
their  commander." 

Anacaona,  with  her  daughter,  attendants,  and  all  the 
caciques,  were  assembled  in  a  house  which  commanded 
a  view  of  the  square  in  which  the  joust  was  to  take 
place.  "  Ovando,  perceiving  that  everything  was  disposed 
according  to  his  orders,  gave  the  fatal  signal.  The  house 
was  surrounded,  and  no  one  permitted  to  escape.  The 
Spaniards  entered,  and  seizing  upon  the  caciques,  bound 
them  to  the  posts  which  supported  the  roof.  Anacaona 
was  led  forth  a  prisoner.  The  unhappy  caciques  were 
then  put  to  horrible  tortures,  until  some  of  them,  in  the 
extremity  of  anguish,  were  made  to  accuse  the  queen 
and  themselves  of  the  plot  with  which  they  were  charged, 


340  HOSPITALITY. 

When  this  cruel  mockery  of  judicial  form  had  been  exe- 
cuted, instead  of  preserving  them  for  after-examination, 
fire  was  set  to  the  house,  and  all  the  caciques  perished 
miserably  in  the  flames." 

Meanwhile  a  most  horrid  massacre  took  place  with- 
out ;  the  armed  horsemen,  sparing  neither  age  nor  sex, 
put  the  defenceless  throng  to  an  indiscriminate  slaughter, 
and  the  princess  Anacaona  was  carried  in  chains  to  Sari 
Domingo.  "  The  mockery  of  a  trial,"  continues  the 
historian,  "  was  given  her,  in  which  she  was  found 
guilty,  on  the  confessions  which  had  been  wrung  by  tor- 
tures from  her  subjects,  and  on  the  testimony  of  their 
butchers ;  and  she  was  ignominiously  hanged,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  people  whom  she  had  so  long  and  so  signally 
befriended." 

HUMANE  CONDUCT  OF  THE  DUCHESS  OF 
FERRARA. 

"  This  ancient  fortress  of  my  race 
Shall  be  Misfortune's  resting-place, 
Shelter  and  shield  of  the  distressed, 
No  slaughter-house  for  shipwrecked  guest." 

"  RENATA,  Duchess  of  Ferrara,  daughter  of  Louis  the 
Twelfth  ana  of  Anne  of  Bretagne,  after  her  conversion 
+o  the  Protestant  faith,  and  her  retirement  to  the  castle 
of  Montargis,  was  distinguished  by  her  hospitality  and 
goodness.  She  displayed  her  kindness  more  particu- 
larly towards  her  countrymen :  every  Frenchman  who, 
in  travelling  through  Ferrara,  was  exposed  to  want  of 
sickness,  experienced  her  benevolence  and  liberality. 
After  the  return  of  the  Duke  of  Guise  from  Italy,  she 
saved,  as  the  army  passed  through  Ferrara,  more  than 
ten  thousand  of  the  French  from  perishing  by  want  and 
hardships.  Her  steward  representing  to  her  the  enor- 


HOSPITALITY.  341 

L^yus  sums  which  her  bounty  thus  expended,  'What,' 
replied  she,  '  would  you  have  me  do  ?  These  are  my 
countrymen,  who  would  have  been  my  subjects  but  for 
th&  Salic  law.'  During  the  civil  wars  in  France,  she 
retired  into  her  city  and  castle  of  Montargis,  where  she 
received  and  supported  numbers  of  distressed  persons, 
who  had  been  driven  from  their  homes  and  estates." 

"  I  myself,"  says  Brantome,  "  during  the  second 
period  of  these  troubles,  when  the  forces  of  Gascoigne, 
consisting  of  eight  thousand  men,  headed  by  Messrs.  De 
Ferrides  and  De  Mousales,  were  marching  towards  the 
king,  and,  passing  by  Montargis,  stopped,  as  in  duty 
bound,  to  pay  my  respects  to  her.  I  myself  saw,  in  hei 
castle,  above  three  hundred  Protestants,  who  had  fled 
thither  from  all  parts  of  the  country.  An  old  steward, 
whom  I  had  known  at  Ferrara  and  in  France,  protested 
to  me  that  she  fed  daily  more  than  three  hundred  people 
who  had  taken  refuge  with  her." 


CRUEL  PUNISHMENT  OF  MRS.  GAUNT. 

"  If  a  hope  of  safety  rest, 
'T  is  ou  the  sacred  name  of  guest." 

HOSPITALITY  has  been  too  often  dangerous  to  those  by 
whom  it  has  been  exercised  :  during  the  proscriptions  of 
Marius  and  Sylla,  it  was  considered  a  crime  against  the 
state  to  afford  shelter  to  the  outlawed  fugitives,  and  pun- 
ished by  the  extreme  penalty  of  the  law.  Yet,  in  those 
as  well  as  later  times,  women  have  been  found  who, 
with  a  courage  superior  to  all  hazard,  have  dared  to 
acquit  themselves  of  this  first  duty  to  society  ind  who 
have  chosen  to  peril  their  lives  and  fortunes  rather  than 
violate  its  sacred  ties.  It  is  a  painful  reflection  *hat 
29* 


342  HOSPITALITY. 

such  self-devoted  and  heroic  beings  should  have  some- 
times experienced  the  basest  ingratitude  from  the  objects 
of  their  bounty  ;  yet  it  was  by  no  means  an  unfrequent 
occurrence  for  those  whose  disinterested  compassion  had 
generously  bestowed  shelter  and  support  upon  the  house- 
less wanderer,  to  be,  in  return  for  such  favors,  denounced 
as  traitors,  for  the  sake  of  the  paltry  reward  offered  for 
their  apprehension. 

An  example  of  this  occurred  in  the  reign  of  James  the 
Second.  "  During  Monmouth's  rebellion,  one  of  his 
followers,  knowing  the  humane  disposition  of  a  lady  of 
the  name  of  Gaunt,  whose  life  was  one  continued  exer- 
cise of  beneficence,  fled  to  her  house,  where  he  was  con- 
cealed and  maintained  for  some  time.  Hearing,  how- 
ever, of  the  proclamation  which  promised  an  indemnity 
and  reward  to  those  who  discovered  suck  as  harbored 
the  rebels,  he  betrayed  his  benefactress ;  and  such  was 
the  spirit  of  justice  and  equity  which  prevailed  among 
the  ministers,  that  the  ungrateful  wretch  was  pardoned, 
and  recompensed  for  his  treachery,  while  his  benefactress 
was  burnt  alive  for  her  charity  towards  him." 

GENEROUS  HOSPITALITY  OF  A  POOR  WIDOW. 

"  Take  with  free  welcome  what  our  hands  prepare, 
Such  food  as  falls  to  simple  servants'  share." 

POPE'S  HOMER. 

"AFTER  the  battle  of  Culloden,  so  fatal  to  the  last 
hopes  of  the  house  of  Stuart,  Colonel  Stuart,  attended 
by  his  friend,  Mr.  Hamilton  of  Balgour,  sought  his  per- 
sonal safety  in  flight.  They  approached  a  lonely  hut  in 
the  Highlands,  to  which  Mr.  Hamilton  went  to  ask 
shelter  for  an  unfortunate  stranger.  The  good  woman 
opened  her  wattled  door,  and  by  his  looks  comprehend- 


HOSPITALITY.  343 

ing  at  once  that  a  poor  refugee  was  in  distress,  though 
she  did  not  understand  one  word  of  English,  she  followed 
Mr.  Hamilton  to  the  spot  where  he  had  left  Colonel 
Stuart,  who  addressed  her  in  her  native  tongue,  and  as 
his  case  was  desperate,  confided  to  her  their  names  and 
their  peril.  She  told  him  the  cattle  were  pasturing 
near  her  cottage  ;  but  if  he  would  wait  a  little,  she  would 
send  the  herds  out  of  view,  and  get  him  removed  with- 
out exciting  suspicion.  Having  succeeded  in  this,  she 
kept  them  concealed  for  several  days ;  and  when  they  at 
length  quitted  their  humane  preserver,  she  loaded  them 
with  provisions,  accompanied  them  for  several  miles, 
pointing  out  the  unfrequented  paths,  or  where  they 
might  venture  to  ask  for  a  lodging,  refusing,  at  the  same 
time,  the  slightest  remuneration.  What  adds  to  the 
merit  of  the  action  is,  that  the  poor  widow  had  lost  two 
sons  in  the  king's  cause,  to  which  she  was  strongly 
attached." 


ESCAPE   EFFECTED  BY  MRS.  GORDON. 

"  O,  woman  ! 

When  pain  and  anguish  wring  the  brow, 
A  ministering  angel  thou !  "  —  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 

THB  honorable  and  hospitable  conduct  of  the  High- 
landers was  well  illustrated,  at  the  same  period,  by  the 
conduct  of  a  clergyman  and  his  wife,  of  the  name  of 
Gordon. 

"  After  the  battle  of  Culloden,  immense  numbers  of 
officers  and  men  received  refreshments  from  Mrs.  Gor- 
don, and  every  part  of  the  manse,  except  one  room,  was 
filled  with  the  wounded.  To  guard  against  treachery, 
Mrs.  Gordon  lodged  the  fugitives  in  separate  apartments. 
So  cautiously  did  she  conceal  from  each  the  condition 


344  HOSPITAUTT 

of  the  others,  that  the  first  request  was,  that  they  would 
not  intrust  her  with  their  real  names :  she  could  serve 
them  under  a  fictitious  appellation.  In  this  manner,  a 
father  and  son  were  five  months  under  her  roof  without 
knowing  their  proximity.  Colonel  Stuart,  being  a  native 
of  the  neighboring  country,  was  personally  known,  and, 
with  his  usual  impetuosity,  had  introduced  his  friend, 
Mr.  Hamilton,  before  Mrs.  Gordon  could  ask  him  to  give 
only  a  borrowed  name.  However,  she  said,  the  gentle- 
man must,  in  future,  assume  the  designation  of  Mr. 
Milton,  and  the  colonel  himself  must  be  Mr.  Grey.  She 
gave  separate  chambers  to  each ;  and,  as  Colonel  Stuart 
was  the  most  obnoxious  to  government,  the  window  of 
his  room  allowed  a  speedy  retreat  to  the  lake,  where  a 
boat  was  constantly  in  waiting  to  facilitate  his  escape  to 
the  upper  district  of  Badenoch,  in  case  of  a  close  pursuit 
by  the  military  stationed  all  around  to  intercept  the  out- 
laws. In  a  few  days,  Colonel  Stuart  found  he  must 
betake  himself  to  his  friends  in  the  mountains ;  but  the 
inquest  in  that  quarter  being  more  rigid,  he  returned  to 
Alvey,  and,  hearing  music  and  dancing,  he  got  in  at  the 
window  of  his  own  room  and  went  to  bed.  He  had  been 
two  days  and  three  nights  without  rest,  sometimes  hidden 
in  caverns,  sometimes  even  obliged  to  strip  and  plunge 
into  a  bog,  covering  his  head  with  branches  of  birch, 
which  he  carried  for  the  express  purpose ;  and  sometimes, 
like  Charles  the  Second,  he  eluded  his  pursuers  by 
ascending  a  tree.  He  was  now  disposed  to  sleep  soundly, 
little  suspecting  that  several  officers  were  in  the  house. 
Mrs.  Gordon  had  heard  they  were  in  search  of  Colonel 
Stuart.  She  hoped  he  was  far  off,  but  trembled  for 
other  guests  ;  and  the  ready  expedient  of  collecting  some 
voung  people,  and  appearing  heedlessly  merry,  she 


HOSPITALITY.  345 

would  divert  suspicion.  The  officers,  in  place  of  ransack- 
ing the  manse,  joined  the  merry  dancers,  and  went  away 
after  supper,  convinced  that  a  family  so  jovial  could  have 
no  concealments.  Some  of  the  company  were  to  sleep 
at  the  manne.  Mrs.  Gordon  had  then  no  spare  room, 
except  that  occupied  by  her  daughter ;  but  she  made  as 
many  beds  as  the  floor  could  contain,  and  the  young 
lady  with  her  cousin  were  removed  to  Mr.  Grey's  room. 
They  undressed.  One  of  them  attempted  to  raise  the 
bedclothes,  when  Colonel  Stuart  awoke.  He  had  loaded 
pistols,  and  his  sword  unsheathed,  always  beside  him 
when  he  lay  down  to  rest.  Providentially  the  sword 
came  first  to  hand.  The  candle  had  been  extinguished, 
but  a  gleam  of  the  moon  showed  a  female  figure,  in  time 
to  avert  the  fatal  thrust.  Had  Colonel  Stuart  seized  the 
pistol,  it  must  have  been  too  late  to  recognize  the 
daughter  of  his  benefactress.  The  shock  of  a  bare 
possibility  of  taking  her  life,  he  said,  was  more  over- 
whelming than  all  his  past  misfortunes.  She  was  Mrs. 
Gordon's  only  child." 

Colonel  Stuart  pays  the  following  tribute  to  the  female 
sex :  "  In  all  our  wanderings,"  says  he,  "  we  have  pre- 
ferred applying  to  the  gentler  sex.  They  never  rejected 
us;  and,  if  they  could  contribute  to  providing  for  our 
safety,  after  separating  from  them,  we  found  they  had  a 
quick  and  clear  perception  of  the  means,  and  sympathy 
to  stimulate  their  exertions,  and  to  render  them  effectual. 
Even  ladies  who  were  keen  partisans  of  the  house  of 
Hanover  spared  neither  trouble  nor  expense  in  our 
behalf." 


346  HOSPITALITY. 

HOSPITALITY  OF  A  NEGRESS. 

"  'T  is  ours  this  son  of  sorrow  to  relieve, 
Cheer  the  sad  heart,  nor  let  affliction  grieve. 
By  Jove  the  stranger  and  the  poor  are  sent, 
And  what  to  those  we  give,  to  Jove  is  lent." 

POPE'S  HOMER. 

THE  celebrated  traveller,  Mr.  Mungo  Park,  experienced 
the  hospitality  of  the  female  sex  on  many  occasions. 
"  In  his  first  African  journey,  he  had  arrived  at  Sego, 
the  capital  of  the  kingdom  of  Bambarra,  and  sought  to 
obtain  a  passage  across  the  river  to  that  part  of  the  town 
in  which  the  king  resided ;  but  owing  to  the  crowd  of 
passengers,  he  was  detained  two  hours ;  during  which 
time  his  Majesty  was  apprised  that  a  white  man,  poorly 
equipped,  was  about  to  pass  the  river  to  seek  an 
audience.  A  chief  was  immediately  sent,  with  an  ex- 
press order  that  the  traveller  should  not  cross  without 
his  Majesty's  permission,  and  he  pointed  to  a  village  at 
some  distance,  where  it  was  recommended  that  the 
stranger  should  pass  the  night.  Park,  not  a  little  dis- 
concerted, repaired  to  the  village ;  but  as  the  order  had 
not  been  accompanied  with  any  provision  for  his  recep- 
tion, he  found  every  door  shut.  Turning  his  horse 
loose  to  graze,  he  was  preparing,  as  a  security  from  wild 
beasts,  to  climb  a  tree  and  sleep  among  the  branches, 
when  a  beautiful  and  affecting  incident  occurred,  which 
gives  a  most  pleasing  view  of  the  negro  character.  An 
old  woman,  returning  from  the  labors  of  the  field,  cast  on 
him  a  look  of  compassion,  and  desired  him  to  follow  her. 
She  led  him  to  an  apartment  in  her  hut,  procured  a  fine 
fish,  which  she  broiled  for  his  supper,  and  spread  a  mat 
for  him  to  sleep  upon.  She  then  desired  her  maidens, 
who  had  been  gazing  in  fixed  astonishment  at  the  whit*» 


HOSPITALITY.  347 

man,  to  resume  their  tasks,  which  they  continued  to  ply 
through  a  great  part  of  the  night.  They  cheered  their 
labors  with  a  song,  which  must  have  been  composed 
extempore,  since  Mr.  Park,  with  deep  emotion,  discov- 
ered that  he  himself  was  the  subject  of  it.  It  said,  in  a 
strain  of  affecting  "simplicity,  — '  The  winds  roared,  and 
the  rains  fell.  The  poor  white  man,  faint  and  weary, 
came  and  sat  under  our  tree.  He  has  no  mother  to 
bring  him  milk,  no  wife  to  grind  his  corn.  —  Chorus  — 
Let  us  pity  the  white  man,  no  mother  has  he,'  &c.  Our 
traveller  was  much  affected,  and  next  morning  could  not 
depart  without  requesting  his  landlady's  acceptance  of 
the  only  gift  he  had  left,  two  out  of  the  four  brass  but- 
tons that  still  remained  on  his  waistcoat." 


HEROIC  ACT  OF  MADAME   BOUQUET. 

"  Is  aught  so  fair, 

In  all  the  dewy  landscapes  of  the  spring, 
In  the  bright  eye  of  Hesper  or  the  morn, 
In  Nature's  fairest  forms,  is  aught  so  fair 
As  virtuous  friendship  ?    As  the  candid  blush 
Of  him  who  strives  with  fortune  to  be  just  ? 
The  graceful  tear  that  streams  for  others'  woes  ? 
Or  the  mild  majesty  of  private  life  ? "  —  AKENSIDE. 

"  WHEN,  at  the  period  of  the  French  Eevolution,  the 
chiefs  of  the  Gironde  party  were  fugitives  in  the  south 
of  France,  and  everywhere  sought  that  asylum  which 
was  too  often  denied  them  by  self-love  and  cowardice, 
Guadet  found  a  place  of  succor  and  safety  in  a  house  of 
one  of  his  female  relatives,  whose  name  was  Bouquet,  not 
only  for  himself,  but  for  his  friend  Salles.  The  news  of 
this  unexpected  relief  being  carried  to  three  companions 
of  those  proscribed  deputies,  they  determined  to  beg  this 
courageous  woman  to  permit  them  to  share  in  the  retreat 


348  HOSPITALITY. 

of  their  friends.  A  faithful  messenger  was  found,  and 
returned  in  a  few  hours  with  the  answer.  Madame 
Bouquet  invited  them  to  come ;  but,  at  the  same  time, 
recommended  them  not  to  approach  her  house  till  mid- 
night, and  to  take  every  possible  precaution  not  to  be 
perceived  by  any  one ;  their  safety  in  her  house,  which 
was  what  occupied  her  thoughts,  depended  greatly  on 
these  preliminary  conditions. 

"  They  arrived  at  midnight.  They  found  their 
friends  lodged  thirty  feet  under  ground,  in  a  large  vault, 
the  entrance  to  which  was  so  concealed  that  it  was 
impossible  for  a  person  ignorant  of  the  circumstance  to 
perceive  it. 

"  The  continual  residence  of  five  men  in  this  cellar, 
although  it  was  very  spacious,  rendered  the  air  so  cor- 
rupt, that,  as  it  could  not  be  renewed  but  with  great  dif- 
ficulty, Madame  Bouquet  contrived,  in  another  part  of 
the  house,  a  second  asylum,  more  healthy,  and  almost  as 
secure.  A  few  days  afterwards,  Buzot  and  Petion 
informed  them,  by  letter,  that,  having  within  fifteen  days 
changed  their  place  of  retreat  seven  times,  they  were 
now  reduced  to  the  greatest  distress.  '  Let  them  both 
come,'  exclaimed  this  generous  woman. 

"  All  this  time,  not  a  day  passed  without  Madame 
Bouquet  being  menaced  with  a  domiciliary  visit,  not  a 
day  in  which  the  guillotine  did  not  lay  some  heads  in 
the  dust.  Too  generous  not  to  be  liable  to  suspicion,  this 
heroic  woman  each  day  heard  the  satellites  of  tyranny 
swear,  as  they  passed  her  habitation,  that  they  would 
burn  alive  in  their  houses  all  who  gave  shelter  to  the 
proscribed  deputies. 

"  '  Well,'  said  she,  '  let  these  inquisitors  come.  I  am 
contented,  provided  you  do  not  take  upon  yourselves  to 


HOSPITALITY.  349 

receive  them ;  all  that  I  fear  is,  that  they  will  arrest  me> 
and  then  —  what  will 'become  of  you?' 

"  Petion  and  Buzot  arrived,  and  then  there  were  seven 
of  them.  The  difficulty  to  provide  for  them  was  great, 
provisions  being  extremely  scarce  in  the  department. 
Madame  Bouquet's  house  was  allowed  by  the  municipality 
only  one  pound  of  bread  per  day;  but,  fortunately,  she 
had  a  stock  of  potatoes  and  dried  kidney-beans.  To  save 
breakfast,  it  was  agreed  that  her  guests  should  not  rise 
till  noon.  Vegetable  soup  was  their  whole  dinner.  After 
the  day  had  closed,  the  deputies  silently  and  cautiously 
left  their  retreat,  and  assembled  round  their  benefactress. 
She  was  in  the  midst  of  them  as  a  mother  among  her 
children,  for  whom  she  devotes  her  life.  Sometimes  a 
morsel  of  beef,  procured  with  great  difficulty,  an  egg  or 
two,  some  vegetables,  and  a  little  milk,  formed  the  supper, 
of  which  the  hostess  ate  but  little,  however  entreated, 
the  better  to  support  her  guests. 

A  month  stole  away  in  this  peaceful  security,  with 
which  was  mingled  the  sweet  enjoyment  of  generous 
affection  and  grateful  friendship ;  when  the  deputies, 
having  some  unusual  reason  to  fear  for  the  safety  of 
their  benefactress,  forcibly  expressed  to  her  their  appre- 
hensions. '  Have  I  not  lived  sufficiently  long,'  replied 
this  admirable  woman,  '  having  given  you  shelter  ?  And 
is  not  death  all  that  is  to  be  desired  when  one  has  done 
all  the  good  possible  ? ' 

"  A  circumstance  which  adds  infinite  value  to  this 
generosity  was,  that  Madame  Bouquet  carefully  concealed 
from  her  guests  the  uneasiness  which  secretly  consumed 
her,  occasioned  by  one  of  her  relations,  who  had  formerly 
been  the  intimate  friend  of  Guadet.  This  man,  having 
learned  what  passed  in  Madame  Bouquet's  house,  set  in 
30 


350  HOSPITAIJTY. 

action  every  means  which  his  mind  could  suggest, 
composed  of  falsehoods  and  artifices,  the  fruits  of  a  pusil- 
lanimous temper  and  a  miserable  self-love,  to  induce  her 
to  banish  the  fugitives  from  her  house.  Every  day  he 
came  to  her  with  stories  more  terrible  one  than  another. 
Sometimes  he  declared  that  he  felt  himself  bound  to 
denounce  traitors  put  out  of  the  sanction  of  the  law  ;  and 
tjjen  he  would  affect  strong  remonstrances  in  behalf  of 
a  family  endangered  by  her  imprudent  conduct.  He 
sometimes  acted  as  if  his  mind  was  disordered  by  the 
terrors  that,  on  her  account,  he  indulged  in ;  and,  at 
length,  fearing  that  he  would  take  some  sudden  and 
desperate  measure,  endangering  the  lives  of  the  deputies, 
she  felt  it  justice  to  them  to  lay  her  situation  before 
them.  Her  voice  was  almost  stifled  with  grief,  as  she 
spoke  to  them. 

"  There  was  but  one  course  for  the  deputies  to  take „ 
they  resolved  to  quit  their  happy  and  peaceful  asylum, 
and  the  moment  of  their  separation,  so  mournful  to  all, 
and  so  fatal  and  eternal  to  most  of  them,  was  fixed  for 
the  following  night. 

"  Sad  effects  of  civil  dissension  !  Exemplary  virtue 
passes  for  crime;  and  instead  of  an  altar  reared  to  their 
glory,  those  whom  it  actuates  are  sent  to  the  scaffold  ! 

"  Suspected  of  having  afforded  an  asylum  to  the  fugi- 
tive deputies,  it  was  not  long  before  Madame  Bouquet 
was  arrested,  together  with  the  whole  family  of  Guadet. 
It  is  well  known  with  what  tenderness  and  ingenuity  the 
father  of  that  deputy  sought  to  save  his  son,  who,  with 
his  friend  Salles,  had  taken  refuge  under  his  roof. 
Carried  before  the  Revolutionary  Tribunal  of  Bourdeaux, 
his  judges  were  too  prudent  to  question  this  venerable 
man  concerning  the  concealment  of  his  son ;  even  they 


E0SPITALITY.  35  i 

dreaded  the  touching  voice  of  nature  and  the  indignation 
of  virtue.  He  was  simply  asked  why  he  had  given  an 
asylum  to  Salles?  to  which  the  old  man  answered  by 
clasp  ng  his  hands,  and  raising  them  to  Heaven.  Witness 
of  this  afflicting  scene,  Madame  Bouquet,  as  vehement 
in  her  indignation  as  she  had  been  impassioned  in  her 
protection  of  the  deputies,  had  not  power  to  listen  in 
silence  to  such  an  interrogatory. 

"  '  Yes,  monsters,'  she  cried,  '  beasts  of  prey,  fed  with 
human  blood!  If  humanity,  if  family  affections,  are 
crimes,  we  all  merit  death.'  Throwing  herself  into  the 
arms  of  the  elder  Guadet,  she  burst  into  tears,  adding, 
as  she  pressed  the  old  man  to  her  bosom,  '  We  have 
now  only  to  die  !' 

"The  Tribunal,  perceiving  the  increasing  interest  in 
the  spectators  of  this  affecting  scene,  hastily  closed  the 
trial  by  pronouncing  the  fatal  sentence  of  death. 

"  Thus  fell  this  admirable  woman,  whose  magnanimity 
does  as  much  honor  to  human  nature  as  her  execution 
disgraces  the  system  under  which  she  died." 

FIDELITY  OF  A  DOMESTIC. 

"  Ah !  why  should  virtue  dread  the  frowns  of  fate  ? 
Hers  what  no  wealth  can  win,  no  power  create  ; 
A  little  world  of  clear  and  cloudless  day, 
Nor  wrecked  by  storms,  nor  mouldered  by  decay  ; 
A  world,  with  memory's  ceaseless  sunshine  blest, 
The  hope  of  happiness,  an  honest  breast."  —  ROGERS. 

"  ANOTHER  outlawed  deputy,  Lanjuinais,  took  refuge 
at  Eennes,  at  a  house  belonging  to  his  mother,  and  of 
which  an  old  female  domestic  had  the  care.  The  fear 
of  terrifying  this  poor  woman  caused  him,  at  first,  to 
conceal  from  her  his  real  situation;  but  having  learnt 
from  the  public  papers  the  execution  of  Guadet  at  Bour 


»52  HOSPITALITY. 

deaux,  and  that  the  government  had  extended  their 
inveterate  proscriptions  to  those  friends  of  the  outlawed 
deputies  who  should  give  them  shelter,  and  even  to  the 
domestics  who  would  not  reveal  the  places  of  their 
concealment,  he  determined  immediately  to  declare  him- 
self, and  prevail  upon  her  to  shun  the  impending  danger, 
hy  instantly  quitting  the  house.  The  declaration  of  his 
misfortunes,  so  far  from  influencing  this  affectionate 
creature  to  avoid  a  participation  of  them,  only  made  her 
resolute  not  to  abandon  him  in  the  hour  of  danger.  '  It 
is  nothing  to  die,'  said  she,  '  but  it  is  a  great  deal  to 
save  the  life  of  one's  master.' 

"  In  vain  Lanjuinais  remonstrated,  entreated,  and  even 
commanded  that  she  should  think  of  her  own  safety ;  it 
was  enough,  he  assured  her,  that  she  kept  the  secret  of 
his  asylum ;  while,  to  remain  near  him,  served  but  to 
endanger  her  own  life,  without  adding  to  the  security  of 
his.  She  rejected  his  reasons,  and  persisted  to  demand, 
as  a  special  favor,  the  privilege  of  remaining  with  him. 
She  prevailed,  and  through  the  zeal  and  exertions  of 
this  worthy  domestic,  Lanjuinais  finally  escaped  the 
researches  of  the  government,  until  the  fall  of  Kobes- 
pierre,  when  his  benefactress  received,  in  the  liberty  and 
safety  of  her  master,  an  ample  reward  for  her  toils  and 
virtuous  perseverance." 

MADAME  PAYSAC  PUT  TO  DEATH. 

"  What  is  this  passing  scene  ? 

A  peevish  April  day ! 
A  little  sun,  a  little  rain, 
And  then  night  sweeps  along  the  plain, 

And  all  things  fade  away."  —  KIRKE  WHITE. 

"  RABAT/D  DE  ST.  ETIENNE  also  was  compelled  to  fly 
from  place  to  place,  every  moment  in  danger  of  falling 


HOSPITALITY.  353 

into  the  hands  of  his  pursuers.  Madame  Paysac,  an 
inhabitant  of  Paris,  having  learnt  that  he  was  concealed 
somewhere  in  that  city,  took  every  possible  x  means  to 
discover  his  retreat,  that  she  might  offer  him  a  more 
secure  asylum  in  her  own  house.  The  worthy  St. 
Etienne  refused  to  avail  himself  of  a  friendship  that 
could  scarcely  fail  to  entail  destruction  oh  such  a  gener- 
ous being,  but  Madame  Paysac  would  admit  of  no 
denial. 

" '  What ! '  said  she,  c  because  there  is  some  danger  to 
be  hazarded  in  the  attempt  to  save  you,  would  you  have 
me  leave  you  to  perish?  What  merit  is  there  in 
benevolence  that  is  exercised  only  when  there  Is  no 
need  of  it?' 

"  The  scruples  of  St.  Etienne  were  silenced  by  the 
perseverance  of  his  friend;  he  was  received  into  her 
house,  and  partook  of  every  consolation  that  his  miser- 
able state  would  admit  of.  But  the  restless  vigilance  of 
the  government  soon  discovered  the  retreat  of  the  unfor- 
tunate St.  Etienne,  and  the  benevolent  Madame  Paysac 
speedily  followed  him  to  the  guillotine,  with  the  same 
intrepidity  she  had  shown  in  confronting  danger  to  per- 
fect his  safety." 

MADAME  RUVILLY  AND  HER  SISTER. 

"  Stranger !  whoe'er  thou  art,  securely  rest 
Affianced  in  my  faith,  a  friendly  guest."  — POPE. 

"  IN  the  city  of  Brest,  a  stranger  one  day  presented 
himself  before  a  lady  named  Ruvilly,  and  besought  her 
to  grant  him  an  asylum  from  the  dangers  of  proscrip- 
tion. There  was  something  in  the  appearance  of  this 
person  that  at  once  inspired  respect  and  confidence ;  hii 
30* 


354  HOSPITALITY. 

gray  hairs  the  traces  that  sorrow  had  left  on  his  coun- 
tenance, greatly  affected  Madame  Ruvilly,  whose  com- 
passionate heart  was  ever  alive  to  the  claims  of 
humanity.  She  did  not  consider  her  own  danger,  —  she 
did  not  even  inquire  who  the  person  was  to  whom  she 
was  about  to  give  a  shelter  that  might  involve  her  in 
utter  ruin,  —  he  was  unfortunate,  and  Madame  Ruvilly 
could  not  resist  such  a  title.  She  concealed  him,  and 
sought  to  lessen  the  sense  of  his  misfortunes  by  her 
kindness  and  attentions. 

"  At  the  expiration  of  two  days,  the  stranger  came  to 
take  leave  of  her.  Madame  Ruvilly,  whose  pity  and 
delicacy  had  forbade  her  to  question  him,  could  not 
forbear  expressing  her  astonishment  at  his  abrupt 
departure.  'I  am,  madame,'  said  he,  'a  priest;  if  I 
remain  longer  here,  my  proscription  will  extend  its  fatal 
consequences  to  you.  Suffer  me  to  depart  instantly, 
while  you  are  yet  safe,  that  I  may  not  have  the  addi- 
tional misery  of  bringing  you  to  destruction.' 

"  '  But  where  will  you  go  ? '  said  Madame  Ruvilly. 
1  God  will  direct  me,'  answered  the  stranger.  '  What ! ' 
exclaimed  Madame  Ruvilly,  'know  you  not  where  to 
seek  a  retreat,  and  would  you  have  me  expose  you  to 
such  danger  ?  Ah  no !  I  cannot  consent  to  it.  The 
more  unprotected  you  are,  the  more  it  is  my  duty  to 
shelter  you.  I  beseech  you  to  remain  in  this  house,  at 
least  till  a  moment  of  less  danger.' 

"The  old  man  resisted  so  strongly  the  humane 
entreaties  of  Madame  Ruvilly,  that  he  came  off  victor  in 
the  generous  contest ;  but  though  no  one  but  a  sister  of 
Madame  Ruvilly  witnessed  the  scene,  the  traces  of  such 
generous  hospitality  were  too  soon  detected.  When 
summoned  before  the  Revolutionary  Tribunal,  Madame 


HOSPITALITY.  355 

Ruvilly  avowed  the  service  she  had  rendered  to  the  old 
priest ;  her  only  regret  was,  the  afflicting  spectacle  of 
her  sister,  who  was  condemned  to  death,  for  not  having 
denounced  her  to  the  tribunal. 

"  Those  two  women  submitted  to  death  with  a  feeling 
of  pride  at  having  incurred,  from  such  a  government,  the 
penalties  attached  to  the  performance  of  a  generous 
action." 


SELF-CONTROL. 


CJM10LA    TURING!. LADY   JANE    GREY. QUEEN   ELIZABETH.-* 

MADAME    DE     VILLECERF. 


"  Brave  conquerors!  for  so  you  are, 
That  war  against  your  own  affections, 
And  the  huge  army  of  the  world's  desires." 

SHAKSFEARB. 

"  Losse  is  no  shame,  nor  to  bee  lesse  than  foe  ; 
But  to  bee  lesser  than  himselfe  doth  marre 
Both  loosers  lott,  and  victours  prayse  alsoe  : 
Vaine  others  overthrowes  who  selfe  doth  overthrow." 

SPENSER. 

THE  complete  control  over  the  passions  is  difficult  to 
be  obtained ;  perhaps  no  one  ever  possessed  this  to  it3 
fullest  extent.  The  greatest  heroes  and  philosophers 
have  ever  had  their  ruling  passion :  Alexander,  who 
wished  to  govern  the  world,  was  in  this  respect  himself 
a  slave ;  and  Peter  the  Great,  of  Russia,  candidly 
acknowledged,  that  while  he  could  conquer  others,  he 
could  not  subdue  himself. 

Alexander  conquered,  —  so  did  Peter ;  and  they  both 
obtained  the  name  of  "  Great : "  how  much  more  deserv- 
ing of  that  title  those  who  have  gained  a  victory  over 
themselves !  Love,  the  most  powerful  of  all  human  pas- 
sions, is  most  difficult  to  subdue,  even  when  the  object 
has  ceased  to  be  that  which  first  excited  the  passion ; 
but  to  love  that  object  when  he  or  she  is  no  longer 
virtuous,  would  tend  to  degrade  us  in  our  own  estima- 
tion ;  therefore,  self-control  is  under  such  circumstances 
one  of  the  highest  species  of  human  virtue. 


SELF-CONTKOt.  357 

RESOLUTION  OF  CAMIOLA  TURINGA. 

"  Wronged  in  my  lore,  all  proffers  I  disdain ; 
Deceived  for  once,  I  trust  not  kings  again  : 
Ye  have  my  answer — what  remains  to  do ! " 

POPE'S  HOMER 

"  TOWARDS  the  close  of  the  reign  of  Robert,  grandson 
of  Charles  the  First,  of  Sicily,  Prince  Orlando,  of  Arra- 
gon,  rashly  encountering  the  Neapolitan  fleet,  was  made 
captive  and  imprisoned  in  one  of  the  castles  of  Naples. 
His  brother,  Peter,  King  of  Sicily,  refused  to  ransom  him, 
as  he  had  occasioned  the  loss  of  the  Sicilian  armament 
by  his  temerity  in  engaging  the  Neapolitans  contrary  to 
his  express  commands.  The  young  and  handsome  prince, 
unfriended  and  almost  forgotten,  remained  long  in  prison, 
and  would  have  been  doomed  for  life  to  pine  away  in 
hopeless  captivity,  had  not  his  wretched  fate  excited  the 
pity  of  Camiola  Turinga,  a  wealthy  lady  of  Messina, 
distinguished  for  every  feminine  grace  and  virtue.  De- 
sirous of  procuring  his  liberty  without  compromising  her 
fair  fame,  and  perhaps  actuated  by  sentiments  still  more 
powerful  than  compassion,  she  sent  a  trusty  messenger 
to  his  dungeon  at  Naples,  to  offer  to  pay  his  ransom  on 
condition  of  his  marrying  her  on  his  return  to  Messina. 
Orlando,  overjoyed  at  his  unexpected  good  fortune,  wil- 
lingly sent  her  a  contract  of  marriage ;  but  she  had  no 
sooner  purchased  his  liberty,  than  he  denied  all  knowl- 
edge of  her,  and  treated  her  with  scorn. 

"  The  slighted  maiden  carried  her  cause  before  the 
royal  tribunal,  and  Peter  of  Arragon,  convinced  of  the 
necessity  of  governing  the  Sicilians  with  justice,  as  his 
empire  depended  solely  on  the  affections  of  the  people, 
adjudged  Orlando  to  Camiola,  as  he  was,  in  fact,  accord- 
ing to  the  custom  of  the  times  and  the  laws  of  war,  a 


358  SELF-CONTROL. 

slave  whom  she  had  purchased  with  her  treasure,  tn 
consequence  of  this  decree,  a  day  was  appointed  for  theii 
marriage,  and  Orlando,  accompanied  by  a  splendid  reti- 
nue, repaired  to  the  house  of  Camiola,  whom  he  found 
decked  out  in  the  customary  magnificence  of  silk  and 
jewels.  But  Camiola,  instead  of  proffering  the  TOWS  of 
love  and  obedience  which  the  haughty  prince  expected 
to  hear,  told  him  she  scorned  to  degrade  herself  by  a 
union  with  one  who  had  debased  his  royal  birth  and 
his  knighthood  by  so  foul  a  breach  of  faith,  and  that  she 
could  now  only  bestow  on  him,  not  her  hand,  of  which 
he  had  proved  himself  unworthy,  but  the  ransom  she  had 
paid,  which  she  esteemed  a  gift  worthy  a  man  of  a  mean 
and  sordid  soul ;  herself,  and  her  remaining  riches,  she 
vowed  to  dedicate  to  Heaven. 

"  No  entreaties  availed  to  change  her  resolution,  and 
Orlando,  shunned  by  his  peers  as  a  dishonored  man,  too 
late  regretted  the  bride  he  had  lost,  and  falling  into  a 
profound  melancholy,  died  in  obscurity  and  neglect." 


THE  ROYAL  POWER  DECLINED. 

"  My  crown  is  in  my  heart,  not  on  my  head  ; 
Not  decked  with  diamonds,  and  Indian  stones, 
Nor  to  be  seen  :  my  crown  is  called  Content ; 
A  crown  it  is  that  seldom  kings  enjoy." 

SHAKSPEARE. 

THE  unfortunate  Lady  Jane  Grey  afforded  a  noble 
instance  of  self-control,  in  refusing  to  accept  the  crown 
of  England,  which  had  been  bequeathed  to  her  by  her 
cousin,  Edward  the  Sixth. 

"  On  the  death  of  that  amiable  young  monarch,  the 
Dukes  of  Suffolk  and  Northumberland  repaired  to  Dur 


SELF-CONTROL.  359 

ham  House,  where  the  Lady  Jane  resided,  with  her 
husband.  There  the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  with  much  solem- 
nity, explained  to  his  daughter  the  disposition  the  late 
king  had  made  of  his  crown ;  the  clear  sense  the  privy 
council  had  of  her  right;  the  consent  of  the  magistrates 
and  citizens;  and,  with  Northumberland,  paid  her  hom- 
age as  Queen  of  England.  Greatly  astonished  by  their 
discourse,  but  not  at  all  persuaded  by  their  reasons,  or 
elevated  by  such  unexpected  honors,  Jane  returned  them 
an  answer  to  this  effect :  '  That  the  laws  of  the  kingdom, 
and  the  natural  right,  standing  for  the  king's  sisters,  she 
would  beware  of  burdening  her  weak  conscience  with  a 
yoke  that  did  belong  to  them ;  that  she  understood  the 
infamy  of  those  who  had  permitted  the  violation  of  right 
to  gain  a  sceptre  ;  that  it  were  to  mock  God,  and  deride 
justice,  to  scruple  at  the  stealing  of  a  shilling,  and  not  at 
the  usurpation  of  a  crown.'  « Besides,'  said  she,  '  I  am 
not  so  young,  nor  so  little  read  in  the  smiles  of  fortune, 
to  suffer  myself  to  be  taken  by  them.  If  she  enrich 
any,  it  is  but  to  make  them  the  subject  of  her  spoil :  if 
she  raise  others,  it  is  but  to  pleasure  herself  with  their 
ruins ;  what  she  adored  but  yesterday,  to-day  is  her 
pastime ;  and  if  I  now  permit  her  to  adorn  and  crown 
me,  I  must  to-morrow  suffer  her  to  crush  and  tear  me  to 
pieces.  My  liberty  is  better  than  the  chain  you  proffer 
me,  with  what  precious  stones  soever  it  be  adorned,  or 
of  what  gold  soever  framed.  I  will  not  exchange  my 
place  for  honorable  and  precious  jealousies,  for  magnifi- 
cent and  glorious  fetters ;  and  if  you  love  me  sincerely, 
and  in  good  earnest,  you  will  rather  wish  me  a  secure 
and  quiet  fortune,  though  mean,  than  an  exalted  condi- 
tion, exposed  to  the  wind,  and  followed  by  some  dismal 
fall.' » 


160  SZLF-CONTEOL. 

Overcome,  at  length,  by  the  pressing  entreaties  of  her 
father,  mother,  and  Northumberland,  but  above  all 
influenced  by  the  earnest  wishes  of  her  husband,  whom 
she  tenderly  loved,  Lady  Jane's  firmness  yielded  to  their 
request.  In  a  fatal  moment,  she  relinquished  her  peace- 
ful and  happy  abode,  to  enter  on  the  cares  of  royalty  ; 
and,  with  a  heavy  heart,  suffered  herself  to  be  conveyed 
to  the  Tower,  which  she  entered  with  all  the  state  of  a 
queen,  an^  was  speedily  jjoclaimed,  with  every  due 
aoJemnity.  She  retained  the  crown,  however,  but  for  ten 
days  ;  at  the  end  of  which  time,  her  cousin  Mary  being 
universally  acknowledged  by  the  people,  the  Duke  of 
Suffolk  waited  upon  his  daughter,  and  informed  her  that 
he  came  to  require  her  to  lay  aside  the  state  of  a  queen, 
and  content  herself  with  the  condition  of  a  subject.  Lady 
Jane,  not  at  all  discomposed,  told  him  that  she  was  much 
better  pleased  with  this  news  than  when  she  ascended 
•.krone,  purely  in  obedience  to  himself  and  her  mother. 
Mary,  however,  could  not  easily  forgive  her  rival  ;  on 
her  accession,  the  unfortunate  Lady  Jane  was  impris- 
oned, with  her  husband  ;  and  the  melancholy  fate  of  this 
youthful  and  interesting  couple  proved  the  tenth  of  Lady 
Jane's  prediction,  which  was  amply  fulfilled  in  her 
unhappy  destiny. 

MAJESTIC  REPLY  OF  QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 


:•";  -.».-?--."  -.;-_*:  M 
"Sot  the  kmg-'s  crown,  tor  die  deputed  rrord, 
The  marshal's  truachcua,  nor  the  judge's  robe, 
Becomes  them  vith  one  half  so  good  a  grace 


THE  following  honorable  anecdote  of  Queen  Eliza 
beth  durarlrriflCT  that  high  majesty  which  was  in  her 


361 

dioughts  as  well  as  her  actions.  When  she  came  to  die 
crown,  a  knight  of  die  realm,  who  had  insoJendy  behaved 
to  her  when  Lady  Elizabedi,  fell  upon  his  knees  to  Her, 
and  besought  her  pardon,  expecting  to  be  sent  to  die 
Tower.  She  replied,  mildly,  "  Do  you  not  know  diat  we 
are  descended  of  die  lion,  whose  nature  is  not  to  harm 
or  prey  upon  die  mouse,  or  any  odier  such  small  ver- 
min?" 

NOBLE   SENTIMENTS  OF  A.  DYING  LADY. 


"  When  remedies  are  past,  the  griefs  are 
By  seeing  the  worst,  which  late  on  " 
To  mourn  a  mischief  that  it  past 
Is  the  next  way  to  draw  new  misc 

SKAXSITAXX. 

MADAME  DE  YILLECERF,  brought  to  death  in  the  flower 
of  her  age  by  die  unskilf  ulness  of  her  surgeon,  comforted 
him  thus  :  "  I  do  not  look  upon  you,"  she  said,  in  dying, 
"  as  a  person  whose  error  has  cost  me  my  life,  but  as  a 
benefactor,  who  advances  my  entry  into  a  happy  immor- 
tality. As  the  world  may  judge  otherwise,  I  have  put 
you  in  a  situation,  by  my  will,  to  quit  your  professio*." 
Such  a  nobleness  of  soul  is  not  to  be  acquired  in  an 
instant ;  it  is  die  consequence  of  a  long  •practice  of  good- 
ness ;  and  die  life  of  such  a  woman,  well  understood, 
will  furnish  more  useful  lessons  than  die  history  of  bat- 
ties,  and  die  famous  massacres,  celebrated  by  so  many 
writers, 

SI 


GRATITUDE. 


•EATEFUL    SCOTCH  'WOMAN. PORTUGUESE   LADY. 


"  Sweet  is  the  breath  of  vernal  shower 
The  bee's  collected  treasure  's  sweet, 
Sweet  music's  melting  fall,  but  sweeter  yet 
The  still  small  voice  of  Gratitude."  —  GRAY. 

"  GRATITUDE  is  the  powerful  reaction  of  a  well-dis« 
oosed  mind,  upon  whom  benevolence  has  conferred  some 
important  good.  The  grateful  person  is  impatient  of  a 
silent  and  passive  reception  of  the  blessing,  and  considers 
himself  bound,  in  honor  and  justice,  either  to  repay  or 
acknowledge  the  debt  by  a  bond  that  cannot  be  can- 
celled. ' 


OFFERING  OF  ELIZABETH  WILCOX. 

"  A  grateful  mind 

By  owing  owes  not,  but  still  pays,  at  once 
Indebted  and  discharged ;  what  burthen  then  ? " 

MILTON. 

AMONG  the  persons  liberated  by  the  Emperor  Alex- 
ander of  Russia,  on  his  ascending  the  throne,  was  a 
British  sailor  of  the  name  of  John  Duncan.  His  mother, 
a  poor  woman  in  Scotland,  thinking  it  her  duty  to 
B  ^knowledge  this  act  of  justice  on  the  part  of  his  impe- 
rial Majesty,  sent  him  the  following  artless  epistle :  — 


GRATITUDE  363 

"  Unto  the  most  excellent  Alexander  Emprore  of  that 
grat  dominion  of  Russia,  and  the  teratorys  there  unto 
belonging,  &c.  &c.  &c. 

"  Your  most  humble  servant  most  humbly  beges  your 
most  gracious  pardon  for  my  boldness  in  approaching 
your  most  dreed  sovring  for  your  clemency  at  this  time. 

"  My  sovring,  the  candour  of  this  freedom  is  on  account 
of  your  sovring's  goodness  in  the  serving  and  inlarging 
of  my  son,  whose  name  is  John  Duncan,  aged  twenty- 
six  years,  who  was  on  a  prentice,  who  was  prisoner  with 
Robert  Spittle,  his  master,  Captaen  of  the  Han,  Spittle, 
of  Alloa,  at  the  time  of  the  British  embargo  in  your 
sovring's  dominions  in  Russia,  who  is  the  only  seport  of 
me,  his  mother,  and  besaid  I  have  no  other  friend  for  my 
seport ;  and  on  the  account  of  your  gracious  benevallence, 
be  pleased  to  accept  of  this  small  present  from  your  ever 
well-wisher,  whilst  I  have  breath. 

"  The  small  present  is  three  pairs  of  stockings,  for 
going  on  when  your  sovring  gos  out  a  hunting ;  I  would 
a  have  sent  your  sovring  silk  stockings,  if  that  my  son 
could  go  in  search  for  it,  but  the  press  being  so  hot  at 
this  time,  that  he  cannot  go  for  fear  of  being  pressed. 

"  If  your  sovring  will  be  pleased  to  axcept  of  this,  and 
faveur  me  with  an  ansueur  of  this,  by  the  bearer,  and  let 
me  kno  what  famely  of  children  your  sovring  has,  I  will 
send  stockings  for  them  for  the  winter,  before  winter  comes 
on,  as  also  what  sons  and  daughters  you  might  have. 

"Most  dreed  sovring,  I  am  your  most  obedient  and 
humble  servant,  till  death, 

"ELIZABETH  WILCOX. 

"  ST.  NEUNSONS,  by  STERLING, 
"April  2,  1804. 

"  Please  to  direct  to  me,  to  the  care  of  Robert  Raunce 
in  St.  Neunsons,  by  Sterling." 


364 


GRATITUDE. 


So  far  was  his  imperial  Majesty  from  despising  the 
humble  token  of  the  gratitude  of  the  writer,  that  he 
ordered  her  a  remittance  of  £100,  which  was  paid  her 
through  the  Russian  ambassador  in  London.  Unfor- 
tunately, some  busy  man  of  letters  took  upon  himself 
to  correct  her  second  letter  to  the  emperor,  and  has  robbed 
it  of  that  originality  which  renders  the  preceding  speci- 
men so  truly  piquant. 


GRATITUDE  OF  A  PORTUGUESE   LADY. 

"  Years  of  service  past, 
From  grateful  souls  exact  reward  at  last."  —  DRYDEW. 

"  When  sorrows  come,  they  come  not  single  spies, 
But  in  battalions."  —  SHAKSFEARE. 

"  WHEN  the  late  Emperor  Don  Pedro  was  one  night 
at  the  opera,  during  the  war  with  the  Argentine  Repub- 
lic, a  woman,  in  deep  mourning,  threw  herself  at  his  feet, 
and  told  him,  that  from  a  state  of  comparative  affluence 
she  was  reduced,  nearly  at  one  blow,  to  complete  destitu- 
tion ;  in  addition  to  which,  she  had  just  lost  her  favorite 
son,  who  had  been  killed  in  a  recent  battle  in  the  Banda 
Oriental.  With  the  news  of  his  death,  she  was  also 
informed  that  a  brig,  in  which  her  husband,  who  was  at 
Oporto,  had  risked  all  he  was  worth,  had  been  taken  b^ 
one  of  the  enemy's  privateers  ;  and  by  an  almost  incom- 
prehensible fatality,  on  the  very  night  she  received  this 
disastrous  intelligence,  her  house,  which  was  not  insured, 
was  burnt  to  the  ground,  her  youngest  child  perished  in 
the  flames,  and  not  a  single  article  of  her  property  was 
saved.  'Her  heart,'  she  added,  'was  almost  broken.' 
The  emperor,  in  the  course  of  his  reply,  said,  '  We  have 
all  our  trials  and  tribulations  —  /n  this  world  none  are 


GRATITUDE. 


366 


exempt;  but  the  sun  sometimes  shines  out  from  behind 
the  darkest  clouds : '  then  telling  her  he  would  see  what 
could  be  done,  desired  a  gentleman  of  the  bed-chamber, 
Senor  P — ,  and,  if  it  must  be  told,  the  minister  of  his 
private  pleasures,  to  give  her  immediately  such  relief  as 
her  accumulated  misfortunes  entitled  her  to ;  adding,  in 
the  same  breath,  '  Hand  her  whatever  money  you  have 
about  you.'  Now,  it  so  happened  that  P —  had  been 
gambling  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  and  had  then  not 
less  than  600  milreis,  in  notes,  in  his  pocket ;  and  by 
way  of  a  joke,  which  he  knew  he  could  play  off  upon 
his  Majesty  with  impunity,  he  determined  to  obey  him 
to  the  very  letter,  and  when  the  emperor  retired,  said. 
'  My  good  dame,  I  am  very  sorry,  for  your  sake,  that  all 
the  money  I  have  with  me  is  but  600  milreis ;  neverthe- 
less, I  hope  it  will  suffice  for  your  present  necessities ; ' 
and  placing  the  notes  in  her  hands,  he  walked  away, 
leaving  her  speechless  with  wonder  at  Don  Pedro's 
munificence.  When,  however,  the  emperor  was  duly 
informed  of  the  sum  which  had  thus  been  disbursed  on 
his  account,  he  flew  into  a  great  passion,  and  after 
reproaching  P —  with  indifference  to  his  interests,  told 
him,  with  great  displeasure,  that  he  would  not  have  been 
so  lavish  of  his  own  money.  Here  the  matter  rested. 
Among  the  first  who  flocked  to  congratulate  Don  Pedro, 
on  his  entering  Oporto,  was  this  very  woman,  who,  it 
appeared,  left  the  Brazils,  to  join  her  husband,  soon  after 
the  events  related  above ;  since  when,  she  had  succeeded, 
through  the  death  of  a  relation,  to  a  very  considerable 
property,  which  her  husband  had  preserved  from  Miguel's 
rapacity,  by  effectually  concealing  his  real  principles. 

"  On  the  day  when  Pedro's  troops  landed,  however,  he 
could  contain  himself  no  longer,  but  mixing  with  a  body 
31* 


366  GRATITUDE. 

of  the  Const.tutionalists,  attacked  a  party  of  the  retreat- 
ing enemy,  and,  miserabile  dictu !  lost  his  life  in  the  con 
flict. 

"  Having  presented  her  sons  to  the  emperor,  (prior  to 
their  joining  a  regiment  as  volunteers,)  and  expressed  her 
heartfelt  gratitude  for  his  former  goodness,  the  widow 
returned  to  her  house,  and  the  same  day  transmitted  to 
him  betwixt  10,000  and  12,000  dollars  for  the  public 
service.  That  this  sum  had  been  lent  to  the  government, 
by  a  rich  widow,  was  currently  reported  at  the  time,  but 
the  above  facts  were  only  known  to  a  few  in  his  Majes- 
ty's suite.** 


LOYALTY. 


OF  SYRACUSE. XEO  FULLARTOS. COUNTESS  OF  BUCHAN. — 

LOYAL    SCOTCH  WOJLAK. LOYAL  WIDOW. HAD  AXE  LECIJERG.  — 

LADY      CATHERINE     DOUGLAS. LADY      FAIRFAX. COUNTESS      OF 

DERBY. LADY    ARUNDEL. LADY    MORTON. LADY    OSILVIE. 

LOYAL     COOK-MAID. MRS.     YATES. MRS.     LANE. FLOKA   MAC- 
DONALD. LOYALTY  REWARDED. 


"  Loyalty  is  still  the  same, 
Whether  it  win  or  lose  the  game ; 
True  as  the  dial  to  the  sun, 
Although  it  be  not  shone  upon."  —  HUDIBRAS. 

IN  momentous  times,  like  the  present,  when  each  day 
affords  fresh  proofs  of  the  increasing  disregard  of  man- 
kind for  all  constituted  authorities,  some  examples  of  the 
enthusiastic  reverence  for  regal  dignity  which  formed 
one  of  the  most  distinguished  features  of  other  ages,  may 
not  be  ill-timed :  such  records  being  well  calculated  to 
inspire  in  the  mind  a  sentiment  of  respect  and  awe 
towards  that  authority  which  we  are  commanded,  not 
only  by  the  Scriptures,  but  by  the  laws  of  our  land,  to 
honor  and  obey. 


368  LOYALTY. 

REMARKABLE  INSTANCE  OF  MAGNANIMITY 

"  Why  give  you  me  this  shame  ? 
Think  you  I  can  a  resolution  fetch 
From  flowery  tenderness  ?    If  I  must  die, 
I  will  encounter  darkness  as  a  bride, 
And  hug  it  in  my  arms."  —  SHAKSPEARE. 

THE  history  of  Syracuse  presents  an  example  of 
singular  fortitude  and  magnanimity  in  two  women,  each 
endowed  with  a  resolution  rarely  witnessed  in  their  sex. 

Of  all  the  family  of  Gelo,  there  remained  only  one 
daughter,  named  Harmonia :  the  rest  had  perished  in  the 
civil  contests  which  had  distracted  the  city.  This  young 
woman's  life  was  now  the  chief  aim  of  the  seditious. 
Her  nurse,  compassionating  her  situation,  in  order  to 
avert  her  threatened  destruction,  made  choice  of  a  young 
lady,  who  resembled  her  not  only  in  person  but  in 
stature,  and  attiring  her  in  the  habit  of  a  princess,  pre- 
sented her  to  the  points  of  their  yet  bleeding  weapons  : 
such  was  the  constancy  and  noble  resolution  of  the  young 
maiden,  that,  notwithstanding  she  beheld  instant  death 
before  her,  she  was  neither  affrighted  with  the  terror  of 
her  situation,  nor  would  reveal  her  name  or  condition. 
Harmonia,  perceiving  this  heroism,  and  admiring  her 
loyalty  and  faith,  called  out  to  the  murderers,  and  discov- 
ering herself  to  preserve  her  attendant,  offered  her  own 
bosom  to  their  swords,  saying,  "  that  she  whom  they 
sought  was  present."  Thus  a  concealed  falsehood  on 
the  one  side,  and  open  truth  on  the  other,  as  well  as  an 
admirable  and  undaunted  constancy  in  both,  was  th« 
cause  of  their  death. 


LOYALTY. 


369 


LOYAL  RECOGNITION  OF  MEG  FULLARTON. 

M  Fair  seasons  yet  will  come,  and  hopes  as  fair." 

WORDSWORTH. 

IN  Ayrshire  there  is  a  tradition,  that  the  family  motto 
of  De  Bruce  —  "  We  have  been,"  originated  from  a  lady 
named  Fullarton,  married  to  a  cadet  of  the  family  of 
Cassilis.  They  had  been  gained  to  favor  England  during 
the  chivalrous  achievements  of  Wallace,  and  still  con- 
tinued zealous  partisans  of  Edward.  Before  Bruce 
avowed  his  purpose  to  emancipate  his  country,  he  came, 
dieguised  as  a  palmer,  to  acquaint  himself  how  far  he 
could  rely  on  aid  from  the  people.  A  storm  compelled 
him,  and  a  few  faithful  adherents,  to  take  shelter  on  the 
coast  of  Ayrshire.  Extreme  darkness,  and  the  turbu- 
lence of  the  billows,  deprived  them  of  all  knowledge 
where  they  landed ;  and  as,  in  those  unhappy  times,  the 
appearance  of  a  few  strangers  would  create  alarm,  the 
chiefs  dispersed  in  different  directions.  Bruce  chanced 
to  go  into  the  house  of  Mr.  Kennedy,  where  the  servants 
treated  him  with  great  reverence.  The  lady  had  gone 
to  bed,  and  the  prince  wished  they  would  not  disturb  her, 
but  permit  him  to  sit  by  the  fire  till  day ;  however,  one 
damsel  had  given  her  immediate  notice  of  the  holy  guest. 
He  was  ushered  into  her  hall.  She  eyed  him  with 
scrutinizing  earnestness.  "  We  hae  been  —  we  hae  been 
fause,"  said  she,  in  the  Scottish  dialect,  "  but  a  royal  ee 
takes  me  back  to  haly  royalty.  I  seid  ye,  mes  royal  de 
Bruce,  I  ken  ye  weel.  We  hae  been  baith  untrue  to 
Scotland,  but  rest  ye  safe  :  and  albiet  a'  that 's  gane, 
Meg  Fullarton  wad  dee  in  your  cause." 


370  LOYALTY. 

CRUEL  FA.TE  OF  THE  COUNTESS  OF  BUCHAN. 

"Hope  withering  fled  —  and  mercy  sighed  farewell." 

LORD  BYROW. 

"  THE  coronation  ot  Robert  Bruce  was  performed  at 
Scone,  on  the  25th  of  March,  1306.  It  had  been  custom- 
ary, since  tht  days  of  Macbeth,  for  one  of  the  family  oi 
Fife  to  put  the  crown  on  the  king's  head ;  and  Bruce 
found  the  prepossession  of  the  Scots  in  favor  of  this 
circumstance  so  strong,  that  he  was  obliged  to  seek  for 
an  expedient  to  satisfy  them.  Macduff,  the  Earl  of  Fife, 
was  at  that  time  in  England,  where  he  had  married  a 
near  relation  of  Edward.  His  sister  was  wife  to  the 
Earl  of  Buchan,  one  of  the  heads  of  the  family  of  Comyn, 
and  consequently  the  determined  enemy  of  Robert.  By 
an  uncommon  effort  of  female  patriotism,  she  postponed 
all  private  quarrels  to  the  good  of  her  country,  and  in 
her  husband's  absence  repaired,  with  all  his  warlike 
accoutrements,  to  Bruce,  to  whom  she  delivered  them  up, 
and  placed  the  crown  upon  his  head. 

"  Shortly  afterwards,  King  Robert  sustained  a  most 
disastrous  defeat,  and,  with  a  few  faithful  adherents,  was 
compelled  to  retire  to  the  Highland  mountains,  where 
they  were  chased  from  one  place  of  refuge  to  another, 
placed  in  great  danger,  and  underwent  many  hardships. 
The  Bruce's  wife,  now  Queen  of  Scotland,  with  several 
other  ladies,  accompanied  her  husband  and  his  lew 
followers  during  their  wanderings.  At  length,  however, 
King  Robert  was  obliged  to  separate  himself  from  the 
ladies  and  his  queen  ;  for  the  winter  was  coming  on,  and 
it  would  be  impossible  for  the  women  to  endure  this 
wandering  sort  of  life,  when  the  frost  and  snow  should 
arrive.  So  he  left  them,  with  his  youngest  brother, 


LOYALTY. 


371 


Nigel  Bruce,  as  their  defender,  in  the  only  castle  which 
remained  to  him,  which  was  called  Kildrummie,  and  is 
situated  near  the  head  of  the  river  Don,  in  Aberdeen- 
shire,  and  retired  to  the  coast  of  Ireland  for  the  winter. 

"  The  English  closely  besieged  the  castle  of  Kildrum- 
mie, and  obtaining  possession  of  it,  put  Nigel  Bruce,  a 
brave  and  handsome  young  man,  to  a  cruel  death,  and 
placed  the  queen  and  her  ladies  under  strict  confine- 
ment, treating  them  with  the  utmost  severity. 

"  The  unfortunate  Countess  of  Buchan  was,  by  the 
command  of  King  Edward,  shut  up  in  a  wooden  cage  in 
one  of  the  towers  of  Berwick  Castle ;  and  Mary,  sister  to 
Bruce,  was  imprisoned  in  the  same  manner,  in  the 
Castle  of  Roxburgh.  The  order  to  the  Chamberlain  of 
Scotland,  or  his  lieutenant  in  Berwick,  for  making  the 
cage  for  the  Countess  of  Buchan,  was  by  writ  of  privy 
seal ;  by  which  he  was  directed  to  make,  in  one  of  the 
turrets  of  Berwick-upon-Tweed,  which  he  should  find 
the  most  convenient,  a  strong  cage  of  lattice-work,  con- 
structed with  posts  and  bars,  and  well  strengthened  with 
iron.  This  cage  was  to  be  so  contrived  that  the  count- 
ess might  have  therein  the  necessary  convenience,  proper 
care  being  taken  that  it  did  not  lessen  the  security  of  her 
person ;  that  the  said  countess,  being  put  in  this  cage, 
should  be  so  carefully  guarded  that  she  should  not  by 
any  means  go  out  of  it;  that  a  woman  or  two  of  the 
town  of  Berwick,  of  unsuspected  character,  should  be 
appointed  to  administer  her  food  and  drink,  and  attend 
her  on  other  occasions  ;  and  that  he  should  cause  her  to 
be  so  strictly  guarded  in  the  said  cage,  as  not  to  be  per- 
mitted to  speak  to  any  person,  man  or  woman,  of  the 
Scottish  nation,  or  any  other,  except  the  woman  01 
women  assigned  to  attend  her,  and  her  other  guards." 


372  LOYALTY. 

Matthew  of  Westminster,  a  contemporary  writer,  says, 
that  "  the  king  declared,  that  as  she  did  not  strike  with 
the  sword,  she  should  not  die  with  the  sword,  but  ordered 
her  to  be  shut  up  in  an  habitation  of  stone  and  iron, 
shaped  like  a  crown,  and  to  be  hung  out  at  Berwick  in 
the  open  air,  for  a  spectacle  and  everlasting  reproach, 
while  living  and  dead,  to  all  that  passed  by." 

Such  was  the  disgraceful  treatment  bestowed  on  a 
female,  whose  active  loyalty  was  entitled  to  the  respect 
and  admiration  even  of  her  enemies. 


A  MOTHER  PRESENTS  HER  SONS  TO  THE   KING. 

"  Heaven  witness, 
I  have  been  to  you  ever  true  and  humble." 


ON  a  subsequent  occasion,  when  King  Robert  had 
narrowly  escaped  with  his  life,  he  sought  shelter  at  a 
farm-house,  where  he  had  appointed  his  men  to  assemble 
after  their  dispersion.  It  was  nearly  night  when  the 
king,  who  was  wholly  unattended,  arrived  at  the  place 
of  rendezvous.  He  walked  boldly  into  the  house,  and 
found  the  mistress,  an  old  true-hearted  Scotswoman, 
sitting  alone.  Upon  seeing  a  stranger  enter,  she  asked 
him  who  and  what  he  was.  The  king  answered,  that  he 
was  a  traveller,  who  was  journeying  through  the  country. 

"  All  travellers,"  answered  the  good  woman,  "  are 
•velcome  here,  for  the  sake  of  one." 

"  And  who  is  that  one,"  said  the  king,  "  for  whose 
sake  you  make  all  travellers  welcome  ?  " 

"  It  is  our  lawful  king,  Robert  the  Bruce,"  answered 
the  mistress,  "  who  is  the  lawful  lord  of  this  country  ; 
and  although  he  is  now  pursued  and  hunted  after  with 


JOYALTY.  375 

hounds  and  horns,  I  hope  to  live  to  see  him  king  over  all 
Scotland." 

"  Since  you  love  him  so  well,  dame,"  said  the  king, 
"  know  that  you  see  him  before  you.  I  am  Robert  the 
Bruce." 

"  You ! "  said  the  good  woman,  in  great  surprise , 
"  and  wherefore  are  you  thus  alone  ?  —  Where  are  all 
your  men  ?  " 

"  I  have  none  with  me  at  this  moment,"  answered 
Bruce,  "  and  therefore  I  must  travel  alone." 

"  But  that  shall  not  be,"  said  the  brave  old  dame, 
"  for  I  have  two  stout  sons,  gallant  and  trusty  men,  who 
shall  be  your  servants  for  life  and  death."  So  she 
brought  her  two  sons,  and  though  she  well  knew  the 
dangers  to  which  she  exposed  them,  she  made  them 
swear  fidelity  to  the  king ;  and  they  afterwards  became 
high  officers  in  his  service. 

THE  WIDOW'S  CONTRIBUTION. 

"  Firm  to  thy  king,  and  to  thy  country  brave ; 
Loyal,  yet  free;  a  subject,  not  a  slave."  —  BECOME. 

KING  Edward  the  Fourth,  having  summoned  a  rich 
widow  to  appear  before  him,  demanded  of  her  what  sum 
she  would  willingly  give  in  support  of  his  great  expenses. 
The  woman,  a  portly  dame,  well  stricken  in  years, 
gazing  on  the  handsome  monarch  with  undisguised 
pleasure,  exclaimed,  "  By  my  troth,  for  thy  lovely  coun- 
tenance, thou  shalt  even  have  twenty  pounds."  The 
royal  applicant,  charmed  with  this  honest  effusion  of 
sentiment,  and  the  equally  unlooked-for  gift  which 
accompanied  it,  thanked  the  bounteous  donor  with  a 
kiss;  and,  overcome  by  her  sovereign's  unexpected 
32 


374  LOYALTY. 

courtesy,  the  good  woman  instantly  doubled  the  amount 
of  her  contribution. 


SUBSTANTIAL  PROOF  OF  LOYALTY. 

"  A  jewel  in  a  ten-times  barred  up  chest 
Is —  a  bold  spirit  in  a  loyal  breast."  —  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  AFTER  the  battle  of  Ivry,  Henry  the  Fourth,  of 
France,  being  very  much  in  want  of  money,  inquired  of 
one  of  his  trusty  courtiors  where  he  could  procure  some. 
The  courtier  mentioned  a  rich  merchant's  wife,  who  was 
a  zealous  royalist.  The  monarch,  in  disguise,  imme- 
diately accompanied  his  courtier  on  his  visit  to  the  lady, 
(Madame  Le  Clerc,)  who  received  them  with  great  hos- 
pitality, and  congratulated  them  on  the  success  of  the 
king's  arms.  '  Alas  !  madame,'  replied  the  courtier, '  to 
what  purpose  are  all  our  victories  ?  We  are  in  the 
greatest  distress  imaginable.  His  Majesty  has  no  money 
to  pay  his  troops;  they  threaten  to  revolt  and  join 
the  League.  Mayenne  will  triumph  at  last.'  '  Is  it 
possible  ? '  exclaimed  Madame  Le  Clerc ;  '  but  I  hope 
that  will  not  afflict  my  sovereign,  and  that  he  will  find 
some  new  resources  in  the  loyalty  of  his  subjects.'  She 
then  quitted  the  room,  but  soon  returned  with  several 
bags  of  gold,  which  she  presented  to  them,  saying, 
'  This  is  all  I  can  do  at  present ;  go  and  relieve  the  king 
from  his  anxiety,  wish  him  all  the  success  and  happiness 
he  deserves ;  tell  him  to  be  confident  that  he  reigns  in 
the  hearts  of  his  subjects,  and  that  my  life  and  fortune 
are,  and  ever  will  be,  at  his  disposal.' 

"  The  king  could  no  longer  conceal  his  incognito. 
'Generous  woman!'  he  cried,  'my  friend  has  no  occasion 
to  go  far  to  tell  his  Majesty  the  excellence  of  your  heart , 


LOYALTY.  375 

here  he  stands  before  you,  and  is  n  witness  to  it.  Be 
assured,  that  the  favor  will  be  indelibly  engraved  on  the 
heart  of  your  prince.' 

"  From  that  time,  success  attended  the  king ;  and 
when  he  was  master  of  the  capital,  and  safely  seated  on 
the  throne,  he  sent  for  Madame  Le  Clerc,  and  presenting 
her  to  a  full  and  brilliant  court,  said,  '  You  see  this  lady, 
who  is  a  true  friend  ot  mine.  To  her  I  owe  all  the  suc- 
cesses of  my  last  campaigns.  It  was  she  who  lent  me 
money  to  carry  on  the  war,  when  the  troops  threatened 
to  abandon  me.' 

"  This  public  and  deserved  acknowledgment  of  Ma- 
dame Le  Clerc's  conduct  confers  much  lustre  on  the 
memory  of  the  monarch,  whose  prosperity  did  not  erase 
the  recollection  of  those  friends  who  had  been  attached 
to  his  less  brilliant  fortunes." 


SELF-DEVOTION  OF  CATHERINE   DOUGLAS. 

"  Though  perils  did 

Abound,  as  thick  as  thought  could  make  'em,  and 
Appear  in  forms  more  horrid  ;  yet  my  duty, 
As  doth  a  rock  against  the  chiding  flood, 
Should  the  approach  of  this  wild  river  break, 
Aiid  stand  unshaken  yours."  —  SHAKSFEARE. 

THE  death  of  James  the  First,  of  Scotland,  was 
marked  by  an  act  of  loyalty,  the  recital  of  which  causes 
us  to  shudder  with  horror. 

"  James,  having  dismissed  his  army  at  the  time,  with- 
out even  reserving  to  himself  a  body-guard,  was  supping 
in  a  Dominican  convent,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Perth. 

"  Sir  Robert  Grahame  brought  a  party  of  outlaws,  in 
the  dead  of  the  night,  to  that  place,  and  posted  them  near 
the  convent.  Walter  Straton,  one  of  the  king's  cup- 
bearers, left  th  e  chamber  in  which  the  king  was  at  sup- 


370  LOYALTY. 

per,  to  bring  him  some  wine ;  but  perceiving  armed  men 
standing  in  the  passage,  he  gave  the  alarm,  and  was 
immediately  killed. 

"  Catherine  Douglas,  one  of  the  queen's  maids  of 
honor,  ran  to  bolt  the  outer  door  of  the  chamber ;  but  she 
found  the  bar  had  been  taken  away,  in  order  to  facilitate 
the  entrance  of  the  murderers.  Without  hesitating  a 
moment,  this  courageous  woman  thrust  her  arm  into  the 
staple ;  but  alas !  what  could  the  slender  arm  of  a  deli- 
cate female  avail  against  a  numerous  band  of  armed  ruf- 
fians? They  burst  open  the  door,  shattered  in  pieces 
the  arm  which  generously  strove  to  oppose  their  en- 
trance, and  rushed,  sword  in  hand,  upon  the  king. 
Patrick  Dunbar,  brother  to  the  Earl  of  March,  was 
killed  in  attempting  to  defend  his  sovereign ;  and  the 
queen  herself  received  two  wounds,  in  vainly  endeavor- 
ing to  interpose  betwixt  her  husband  and  the  daggers 
of  the  assassins.  James  defended  himself  as  long  as 
he  could,  but  at  last  expired  under  the  repeated  strokes 
of  his  murderers,  after  having  received  twenty-eight 
wounds." 


SINGULAR   OCCURRENCE  ON  KING  CHARLES   THE 
FIRST'S  TRIAL. 

"  "With  my  own  power  my  majesty  they  wound, 
In  the  long's  name,  the  king  himself  's  uncrowned  j 
So  doth  the  dust  destroy  the  diamond." 

Verses  written  by  Charles  I.  when  a  prisoner  in 
Carisbrook  Castle. 

A  REMARKABLE  adventure  happened  during  the  trial 
of  Charles  the  First ;  in  calling  over  the  court,  when  the 
crier  pronounced  the  name  of  Lcrd  Fairfax,  which  had 
been  inserted  in  the  number  of  his  Majesty's  judges,  a 
voice  from  one  of  the  spectators  exclaimed,  "He  baa 


LOYALTY.  377 

more  wit  than  to  be  here."  When  the  charge  was  read 
against  the  king  "  In  the  name  of  the  people  of  Eng- 
land," the  same  voice  cried,  "  Not  a  tenth  part  of  them." 
Axtel,  the  officer  who  guarded  the  court,  giving  orders 
to  fire  into  the  box  whence  these  insolent  speeches 
came,  it  was  discovered  that  Lady  Fairfax  was  there, 
and  thatjt  was  she  who  had  had  the  courage  to  utter 
them.  The  husband  of  this  noble  lady  had  distin- 
guished himself  greatly  in  the  command  of  the  parlia- 
mentary armies,  but  was  averse  to  the  extreme  measure 
of  putting  the  king  to  death.  "  Lady  Fairfax,"  says 
Clarendon,  "  having  been  educated  in  Holland,  had  little 
reverence  for  the  Church  of  England,  and  so  had  unhap- 
pily concurred  in  her  husband's  entering  into  rebellion, 
never  imagining  what  misery  it  would  bring  on  the  king- 
dom ;  and  now  abhorred  the  work  in  hand  as  much  as 
anybody  could  do,  and  did  all  she  could  to  hinder  her 
husband  from  acting  any  part  in  it.  On  this  occasion, 
when  it  was  found  out  who  had  uttered  the  speeches 
mentioned  above,  she  was  either  persuaded  or  forced  to 
leave  the  place,  to  prevent  any  disorder  which  might 
arise  in  consequence  of  her  boldness." 

CHARLOTTE,  COUNTESS  OF  DERBY. 

"  Dream  ye,  my  lords  !  that  thus  with  open  ears, 
And  gaping  mouths  and  eyes,  ye  sit  and  drink 
This  curbless  torrent  of  rebellious  madness  ! 

*  *  *  * 

For  shame,  my  lords !  all,  all  of  ye,  for  shame  J 
Off,  off  with  crown  and  sceptre  !  for  there  is 
No  loyalty  in  subjects  ;  and  in  kings, 
No  king-like  terror  to  enforce  their  rights." 

Fronds  I.,  by  Miss  KEMBLE. 

Ax  the  time  of  the  civil  wars  in  Great  Britain,  many 
women  distinguished  themselves  by  their  loyalty.    They 
32* 


378  LOYALTY. 

defended  fortifications  against  the  parliamentary  troops 
with  the  most  undaunted  courage,  adhering  to  the  last  to 
the  fortunes  of  their  unhappy  king. 

Among  these  heroines  was  Charlotte,  Countess  of 
Derby,  whose  exertions  for  her  unfortunate  sovereign 
merited  a  happier  reward.  During  the  space  of  two 
years,  the  countess  defended  a  house  in  Lathom,  Lan- 
cashire, with  the  greatest  masculine  courage  and  skill, 
against  the  troops  of  the  Parliament. 

A  few  interesting  particulars,  with  which  it  is  neces- 
sary to  content  ourselves,  I  shall  extract  from  the  account 
of  this  memorable  siege  published  by  Mr.  Bohn,  in  his 
Standard  Library,  from  the  original  MSS.  in  ihe  Ash- 
molean  Museum,  Oxford,  referring  the  reader  to  the 
work  itself,  as  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  choice 
pieces  of  history  connected  with  the  annals  of  our 
country. 

At  the  time  when  Lathom  was  besieged  by  the  par- 
liamentarian army,  it  appears  that  the  Earl  of  Derby 
was  absent,  being  employed  by  their  Majesties  in  the  Isle 
of  Man.  On  the  27th  of  May,  Mr.  Holland,  governor 
of  Manchester,  sent  to  the  Lady  Derby,  "  requiring  her 
to  subscribe  to  the  propositions  of  the  Parliament,  or 
yield  up  Lathom  House  ;  but  her  ladyship  denied  both, 
—she  would  neither  tamely  give  up  her  house,  nor  pur- 
chase her  peace  with  the  loss  of  her  honor.  But  being 
then  in  no  condition  to  provoke  a  potent  and  malicious 
enemy,  and  seeing  no  possibility  of  speedy  assistance,  she 
desired  a  peaceable  abode  in  her  own  house,  referring  all 
her  lord's  estate  to  their  disposal,  with  promise  only  to 
keep  so  many  men  in  arms  as  might  defend  her  person 
and  house  from  the  outrages  of  their  common  soldiers, 
which  was  hardly  obtained. 


LOYALTY.  379 

"  From  this  time,  she  endured  a  continued  siege,  being 
with  the  exception  of  her  gardens  and  walks,  confined  afc 
a  prisoner  within  her  own  walls,  with  the  liberty  of  the 
castle  yards,  suffering  the  sequestration  of  her  whole 
estate,  besides  daily  affronts  and  indignities  from  un- 
worthy persons,  and  the  unjust  and  undeserved  censures 
of  some  that  wore  the  name  and  face  of  friends ;  all 
which  she  patiently  endured,  well  knowing  it  to  be  no 
wisdom  to  quarrel  with  an  evil  she  could  not  redress. 
Therefore,  to  remove  all  pretences  of  violence  or  force 
against  her,  she  restrained  her  garrison  soldiers  from  all 
provocation  and  annoyance  of  the  enemy,  and  so  by  her 
wisdom  kept  them  at  a  more  favorable  distance  for  the 
space  of  almost  a  year."  It  was,  however,  resolved,  on  the 
24th  of  February,  that  three  colonels  of  the  Parliament 
should  be  despatched  immediately  against  Lathom;  which 
the  countess  hearing,  "  used  all  diligence  and  care  to 
furnish  her  house  with  provisions  and  men ;  which  was 
a  hard  work,  considering  that  she  had  been  debarred  of 
her  estate  for  a  whole  year.  Yet  in  these  straits  she  used 
not  the  least  violence  to  force  relief  from  any  of  her 
neighbors,  though  some  of  them  were  as  bad  tenants  as 
subjects ;  but  with  her  own  small  stock,  by  the  charity  of 
some  few  friends,  and  by  the  industry  of  her  careful 
servant,  Mr.  Broome,  she  provided  herself  to  bear  the 
worst  of  a  cruel  enemy."  On  the  27th,  the  enemy  sta- 
tioned themselves  around  the  house,  within  a  mile  or  two. 
On  the  following  day,  "  Captain  Markland  brought  a 
letter  from  Sir  Thomas  Fairfax,  and  with  it  an  ordinance 
of  Parliament,  the  one  requiring  her  ladyship  to  yield  up 
Lathom  House  upon  such  honorable  conditions  as  he 
should  propose,  and  the  other  declaring  the  mercy  of  the 
Parliament  to  receive  the  Earl  of  Derby,  if  he  would 


380  LOYALTY. 

submit  himself,  in  which  business  Sir  Thomas  Fairfax 
promised  to  be  a  faithful  instrument.  To  which  he* 
ladyship  gave  answer,  '  She  much  wondered  that  Sir 
Thomas  Fairfax  should  require  her  to  give  up  her  lord's 
house,  without  any  offence  on  her  part  done  to  the  Par- 
liament ;  desiring  that  in  a  business  of  such  weight,  which 
struck  both  at  her  religion  and  her  life,  and  that  so  nearly 
concerned  her  sovereign,  her  lord,  and  her  whole  pos- 
terity, she  might  have  a  week's  consideration,  both  to 
resolve  the  doubts  of  conscience,  and  to  have  adyice  in 
matters  of  law  and  honor.' "  The  real  object  of  the 
countess  was  to  gain  time ;  which  being  suspected  by 
the  knight,  he  denied  her  demand,  praying  her  ladyship 
to  meet  Sir  Thomas  Fairfax  and  his  colonels  at  New 
Park,  a  house  of  her  lord's,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
distant,  for  the  further  transacting  the  business.  "  This 
her  ladyship  flatly  refused,  with  scorn  and  anger,  as  an 
ignoble  and  uncivil  motion,  returning  only  this  answer : 
'  That,  notwithstanding  her  present  condition,  she  re- 
membered both  her  lord's  honor  and  her  own  birth, 
conceiving  it  more  knightly  that  Sir  Thomas  Fairfax 
should  wait  upon  her,  than  she  upon  him.'  "  A  second 
embassy,  brought  in  person  by  Colonels  Ash  ton  and 
Rigby,  was  equally  unsuccessful.  After  this,  Mr.  Ashton 
waited  upon  the  countess  a  second  time,  alone,  to  receive 
her  propositions  for  General  Fairfax ;  but  these  "  being 
apprehended  too  full  of  policy  and  danger  to  be  allowed," 
she  was  informed,  in  conclusion,  that  she  should  have 
all  the  time  she  desired,  and  permission  to  transport  her 
arms  and  goods  to  the  Isle  of  Man,  except  the  cannon, 
which  was  to  be  left  for  the  defence  of  the  house,  pro- 
vided by  ten  o'clock  next  day  she  disbanded  all  her 
soldiers  except  her  menial  servants,  and  would  receive 


LOYALTY.  38 

an  officer  and  forty  parliamentary  soldiers  for  her  guard. 
To  this  was  returned  the  following  spirited  reply:  "  That 
she  refused  all  their  articles,  and  was  truly  happy  that 
they  had  refused  hers,  protesting  she  had  rather  hazard 
her  life  than  offer  the  like  again.  That,  though  a  woman 
and  a  stranger,  divorced  from  her  friends,  and  robbed 
of  her  estate,  she  was  ready  to  receive  their  utmost 
violence,  trusting  in  God  both  for  protection  and  deliver- 
ance." 

Both  sides  now  prepared  for  action  ;  but  before  hostili- 
ties were  commenced,  another  overture  was  made  to  the 
countess,  by  which  she  was  permitted  to  depart,  with  all 
her  arms,  &c.,  and  all  in  the  house,  excepting  one  hun- 
dred persons,  who  should  depart  within  ten  days.  To 
which  the  countess  replied,  "  That  she  scorned  to  be  a 
ten  days'  prisoner  in  her  own  house,  judging  it  more 
noble,  whilst  she  could,  to  preserve  her  liberty  by  her 
arms,  than  to  buy  a  peace  with  slavery.  And  what 
assurance  have  I  of  liberty,  or  of  the  performance  of  any 
condition,  when  my  strength  is  gone?  I  have  received, 
under  the  hands  of  some  eminent  personages,  that  your 
general  is  not  very  conscientious  in  the  performance  of 
his  subscriptions;  so  that  from  him  I  must  expect  an 
unsinevved  and  faithless  agreement.  It  is  dangerous 
treating  when  the  sword  is  given  into  the  enemy's 
hands;"  and  therefore  her  ladyship  added,  "that  not  a 
man  should  depart  from  her  house ;  that  she  would  keep 
it  whilst  God  enabled  her,  against  all  the  king's  enemies; 
and,  in  brief,  that  she  would  receive  no  more  messages 
without  an  express  of  her  lord's  pleasure,  who,  she  now 
heard,  was  returned  from  the  Isle  of  Man,  and  to  whom 
»he  referred  them  for  the  transaction  of  the  whole 
business,  considering  that  frequent  treaties  are  a  dis- 


382  LOYALTY. 

couragement  to  the  soldiers  besieged,  as  exhibiting  some 
want  or  weakness  within,  and  so  commonly  become  the 
first  key  that  opens  the  gate  to  the  enemy."  The  next 
day,  to  make  good  her  words,  a  sally  was  made  by  about 
one  hundred  of  the  besieged,  who  slew  about  thirty  of 
the  enemy,  took  forty  arms,  one  drum,  and  six  prisoners. 
.During  the  whole  progress  of  this  memorable  siege,  the 
countess  displayed  a  heroism  superior  to  her  sex ;  and  it 
is  truly  admirable  to  survey  her  conduct  under  such 
trying  circumstances.  "  Her  ladyship  commanded  in 
chief:  whose  first  care  was  the  service  of  God,  which, 
in  sermons  and  solemn  prayers,  she  saw  duly  performed. 
Four  times  a  day  was  she  commonly  present  at  public 
prayer,  attended  by  the  two  little  ladies  her  children, 
the  Lady  Mary  and  the  Lady  Catherine,  for  piety  and 
sweetness  truly  the  children  of  so  princely  a  mother; 
and  if  daring  in  time  of  danger  can  add  anything  to 
their  age  and  virtues,  let  them  have  this  testimony,  that 
though  truly  apprehensive  of  the  enemy's  malice,  they 
were  never  startled  by  any  appearance  of  danger."  Sir 
Thomas  Fairfax,  after  the  siege  had  continued  a  few 
days,  received  a  letter  from  the  Earl  of  Derby,  desiring 
an  honorable  and  free  passage  for  his  lady  and  children, 
dreading  the  extremities  to  which  they  might  be  exposed ; 
but  when  this  was  communicated  to  the  countess,  although 
she  acknowledged  the  courtesy  of  Sir  Thomas  Fairfax, 
she  replied,  "  She  would  willingly  submit  herself  to  her 
lord's  commands,  and  therefore  willed  the  general  to  treat 
with  him ;  but  till  she  was  assured  that  such  was  his 
lordship's  pleasure,  she  would  r.jither  yield  up  the  house, 
nor  desert  it  herself,  but  wait  for  the  event,  according  to 
the  good  will  of  God."  A  similar  communication  she 

forwarded  to  her  husband  at  Chester.     The  siege  con« 


LOYALTY.  383 

tinued,  of  which  it  i.?  impossible,  in  such  narrow  limits 
as  these,  to  enter  into  particular  details.  On  the  25th  of 
April,  Mr.  Rigby,  wearied  with  the  resolute  defence  of 
the  little  garrison  v  sent  another  peremptory  summons  to 
the  countess  to  surrender  La  thorn  House,  persons,  goods, 
and  arms,  to  the  mercy  of  the  Parliament,  desiring  her 
answer  by  two  o'clock  on  that  day.  The  indignant  lady, 
on  receipt  of  this  message,  bravely  told  the  messenger 
"  that  '  a  due  reward  for  his  pains  is  to  be  hanged  up  at 
her  gates  ;  but,'  says  she,  '  thou  art  but  the  foolish  instru- 
ment of  a  traitor's  pride.  Carry  this  answer  back  tc 
Rigby,'  (with  a  noble  scorn,  tearing  the  paper  in  his 
sight,)  '  and  tell  that  insolent  rebel  he  shall  neither  have 
persons,  goods,  nor  house ;  when  our  strength  and  pro- 
vision is  spent,  we  shall  find  a  fire  more  merciful  than 
Rigby's  ;  and  then,  if  the  providence  of  God  prevent  it 
not,  my  goods  and  house  shall  burn  in  his  sight ;  and 
myself,  children  and  soldiers,  rather  than  fall  into  his 
hands,  will  seal  our  religion  and  loyalty  in  the  same 
flame  : '  which,  being  spoken  aloud,  in  her  soldiers'  hear- 
ing, they  broke  out  into  shouts  and  acclamations  of  joy, 
all  closing  with  this  general  voice,  '  We  will  die  for  his 
Majesty  and  your  honor. —  God  save  the  king ! ' " 

The  siege  continued  to  be  carried  on,  and  the  garrison 
still  maintained  their  defence  with  the  utmost  bravery 
and  resolution,  unanimous  in  their  determination  of 
resistance,  and  courageously  supported  by  the  brave  lady, 
their  commander ;  when,  to  their  great  joy,  they  learnt, 
on  the  23d  of  May,  that  Prince  Rupert  was  in  Chesnire, 
marching  to  her  ladyship's  relief.  The  enemy,  being 
also  made  aware  of  this  fact,  withdrew  their  forces,  first 
to  Eccleston  Green,  and  afterwards  to  Bolton.  Before 
this  town,  Prince  Rupert  drew  up  his  army,  and  with 


384  LOYALTY. 

gallantry  and  resolution  led  on  his  men  to  an  aisault. 
"  The  Earl  of  Derby,  desiring  to  be  one  of  the  first 
avengers  of  that  barbarity  and  cruelty  displayed  to  his 
lady,  with  a  part  of  the  prince's  own  horse,  charged  a 
troop  of  the  enemy,  which  had  bravely  issued  out  of  the 
town,  to  disorder  and  vex  our  foot  in  the  assault.  These 
he  chased  to  the  very  walls,  where  he  slew  the  cornet,  and 
with  his  own  hand  took  the  colors,  being  the  first  ensign 
taken  that  day,  and  which  he  sent  to  his  highness." 
*  *  On  the  29th  of  May,  the  prince  "  not  only  relieved, 
but  revenged  the  most  noble  lady,  his  cousin,  leaving 
1600  of  her  besiegers  dead  in  the  place,  and  carrying 
away  700  prisoners.  For  a  perpetual  memorial  of  his 
victory,  as  a  brave  expression  of  his  own  nobleness,  and 
a  gracious  respect  to  her  ladyship's  sufferings,  the  next 
day  he  presented  her  ladyship,  by  the  hands  of  the 
valiant  and  trusty  noble,  Sir  Richard  Crane,  with  twenty- 
two  of  those  colors,  which  three  days  before  were  proudly 
flourished  before  her  house,  which  gift  will  give  honor, 
to  his  highness  and  glory  to  the  action,  so  long  as  there 
lives  one  branch  of  that  ancient  and  princely  family 
which  his  highness  that  day  preserved." 

The  Countess  of  Derby  now  accompanied  her  hus- 
band and  children  to  the  Isle  of  Man,  where,  regarded 
"  as  patriarchal  princes,  they  bade  defiance  to  the  fleets, 
the  threats,  and  the  persuasions,  of  Parliament."  Trust- 
ing to  a  safe  conduct  from  Fairfax,  they  sent  their 
children  into  England  to  be  educated,  when  they  were 
seized  as  prisoners.  Though  repeated  offers  were  made 
to  restore  them,  and  the  whole  of  his  estates,  if  the  earl 
would  give  up  his  island,  he  remained  firm  to  his  royal 
master.  He  was  one  of  the  first  to  join  the  standard  of 
Charles  the  Second,  in  1651,  and  provided  for  the  safety 


LOYALTY.  385 

of  his  sovereign,  after  the  battle  of  Worcester,  at  the 
hazard  of  his  own  life.  Being  overtaken  on  the  borders 
of  Chester  by  his  enemies,  he  was  carried  to  his  own 
town,  Bolton'-le-Moors,  and  there  executed.  His  unfor- 
tunate countess,  whom  he  had  left  governor  of  the  Isle 
of  Man,  being,  with  her  children,  betrayed  by  a  false 
friend  into  the  hands  of  her  enemies,  was  thrown  into 
prison :  and  while  there,  two  of  her  children  fell  victims 
to  the  small-pox.  On  the  restoration  of  Charles  the 
Second,  she  recovered  her  liberty,  and  returned,  with  her 
remaining  children,  to  Knowsley  Hall,  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Lathom  House,  where  she  departed  this  life  in 
the  year  1663. 

Lathom  House,  which  had  been  left  to  the  care  of 
Colonel  Rawstone,  at  the  time  the  earl  and  countess 
retired  to  the  Isle  of  Man,  maintained  its  defence  against 
the  Parliament,  until  the  defeat  of  the  royalists  at  Mars- 
ton  Moor  prevented  the  king  from  further  assisting  it, 
and  rendered  a  compromise  necessary;  this,  however, 
was  frustrated  by  the  treachery  of  an  Irish  soldier,  who 
surrendered  it,  upon  hare  terms  of  mercy,  into  the  hands 
of  the  parliamentarian  army;  and  a  newspaper  of  the 
day  thus  notices  the  event :  —  "On  Saturday,  December 
6th,  after  the  house  was  up,  there  came  letters  to  the 
Speaker  of  the  Commons  House,  of  the  surrender  of 
Lathom  House,  in  Lancashire,  belonging  to  the  Earl  of 
Derby,  which  his  lady,  the  Countess  of  Derby,  proving 
herself  the  better  soldier  of  the  two,  hath  above  these 
two  years  kept  in  opposition  to  our  forces." 
33 


388  LOYALTY. 

DEFENCE  OF  WARDOUR  CASTLE. 

"  Noble  friends, 

That  which  combined  us  was  most  great ;  and  let  not 
A  leaner  action  rend  us." — SHAKSPEARE. 

"  BLANCHE,  Lady  Arundel,  who  was  as  much  distin- 
guished for  her  courage  as  for  the  splendor  of  her  birth, 
bravely  defended,  in  the  absence  of  her  husband,  the 
castle  of  Wardour,  with  a  spirit  above  her  sex,  for  nine 
days,  with  a  few  men,  against  Sir  Edward  Hungerford, 
Edmund  Ludlow,  and  their  army,  and  then  delivered  it 
up,  on  honorable  terms,  to  the  parliamentary  army. 

"  The  following  account  of  the  transaction  is  given  in 
the  Mercurius  Rustics,  a  kind  of  newspaper  of  those 
times :  — 

" '  On  Tuesday,  May  2, 1643,  Sir  Edward  Hungerford, 
commander-in-chief  of  the  parliamentary  forces  in  Wilt- 
shire, appeared  before  Wardour  Castle,  a  mansion  of  Lord 
Arundel,  in  the  same  county.  Sir  Edward,  finding  the 
castle  prepared  to  stand  a  siege,  and  the  inhabitants  reso- 
lute in  its  defence,  called  in  Colonel  Strode  to  assist  in  the 
attack.  The  combined  troops,  amounting  to  about  thirteen 
hundred  men,  commenced  their  operations  by  summoning 
the  castle  to  surrender,  under  the  pretence  that  it  had 
served  as  a  harbor  and  an  asylum  for  the  king's  party,  and 
that  it  contained  men  and  arms,  plate  and  money,  which 
they  had  a  commission  from  the  Parliament  to  seize. 
Lady  Arundel,  who  commanded  the  fortress  in  the  ab- 
sence of  her  husband,  who  was  then  at  Worcester,  refused 
to  deliver  it  up,  declaring,  with  magnanimity,  that  she  had 
the  orders  of  her  lord  to  keep  it,  and  those  orders  she 
was  determined  to  obey.  On  this  reply,  the  cannon 
were  drawn  up  and  the  battery  commenced,  which  con- 
tinued, without  intermission,  from  the  Wednesday  till 


L0\ ALTY.  3S~ 

the  following  Mo  iday.  The  castle  contained  but  twenty- 
five  fighting  men.  During  the  siege,  two  mines  were 
sprung,  by  the  explosion  of  which  every  room  in  the 
fortress  was  shaken  and  endangered.  The  besiegers 
offered  more  than  once  to  give  quarter  to  the  women  and 
children,  on  condition  that  the  besieged  should  surrender 
their  arms.  But  the  ladies  of  the  family,  disdaining  to 
sacrifice  to  their  own  safety  their  brave  friends  and 
faithful  servants,  with  whom  they  chose  rather  to  perish, 
rejected  the  proposals  with  honorable  scorn.  Oppressed 
with  numbers,  wearied  with  exertion,  and  exhausted 
by  watching,  the  strength  of  the  besieged  at  length 
began  to  fail:  in  this  extremity,  the  ladies  and  female 
servants  assisted  in  loading  the  muskets,  and  in  admin- 
istering refreshments  to  their  intrepid  defenders. 

"  '  The  enemy,  having  brought  petards,  applied  them 
to  the  garden  doors,  which  they  endeavored  to  force, 
and  open  a  passage  to  the  castle  ;  balls  of  wildfire  were, 
at  the  same  time,  thrown  in  at  the  dismantled  windows. 
In  this  distress,  when  every  hope  was  cut  off,  the  besieged 
demanded  a  parley,  which  was  granted  by  the  enemy. 
Articles  of  surrender  were  accordingly  drawn  up,  by 
which  it  was  first  stipulated  that  the  inhabitants  of  the 
fortress  should  be  allowed  quarter;  secondly,  that  the 
ladies  and  servants  should  have  their  wearing  apparel 
spared,  to  them,  and  that  six  of  the  serving-men,  nomi- 
nated by  themselves,  should  be  allowed  to  attend  on 
their  persons,  wherever  they  might  be  disposed  to  retire ; 
thirdly,  that  the  furniture  should  be  saved  from  plunder, 
and  that  a  person  should  remain  in  the  castle  for  the 
purpose  of  taking  an  inventory  of  all  that  it  contained, 
one  copy  of  which  was  to  be  delivered  to  the  commander* 
in-chief,  and  another  given  to  the  ladios. 


388  LOYALTY. 

" '  The  besiegers  were,  on  these  terms,  allowed  to 
take  possession  of  the  castie  ;  but  the  first  article  of  the 
capitulation,  by  which  the  lives  of  the  inhabitants  were 
spared,  was  the  only  one  observed,  while  the  remainder 
were  violated  without  scruple. 

•' «  The  besieged  had,  in  their  defence,  slain  more  than 
sixty  of  their  adversaries,  who  had  now  their  turn  for 
vengeance.  They  destroyed  and  defaced,  with  savage 
fury,  many  valuable  pictures,  carvings,  and  works  of  art ; 
and  nothing  was  left  to  the  defeated  but  the  clotho 
which  they  wore.  The  ladies  and  children  were  le<» 
prisoners  to  Shaftesbury,  whither  five  cart-loads  of  thei« 
richest  furniture  and  hangings  were  carried  in  triumph 
So  much  devastation  and  plunder  were  committed  at  the 
castle,  that  the  loss  of  the  Earl  of  Arundel,  on  this 
occasion,  was  computed  at  one  hundred  thousand  pounds. 

" '  The  victors,  conceiving  their  prisoners  insecure  at 
Shaftesbury,  proposed  removing  them  to  Bath,  the  air 
of  which  was,  at  that  time,  infected  both  by  the  plague 
and  small-pox.  Lady  Arundel,  dreading  to  expose  her 
children  to  contagion,  earnestly  remonstrated  against  the 
barbarous  purpose,  which  force  only,  she  was  determined, 
should  effect.  Her  adversaries,  afraid  lest  the  people 
should  be  disgusted  by  so  gross  and  brutal  a  proceeding, 
were  induced,  on  reflection,  to  relinquish  their  design ; 
but  not  without  piercing  the  heart  of  a  mother,  by^  oblig- 
ing her  to  separate  from  her  children.  Two  sons,  the 
elder  only  nine  and  the  younger  seven  years  of  age, 
were  torn  from  her  arms,  and  carried  captives  to  Dor- 
chester.' 

"  Lady  Arundel  survived  this  event  only  five  years, 
and,  at  her  death,  was  buried  with  her  husband  in  the 
chapel  of  Wardour  Castle." 


LOYALTY.  3S9 

FIDELITY  OF  LADY  MORTON. 

"  The  wise  and  active  conquer  difficulties 
By  daring  to  attempt  them.     Sloth  and  folly 
Shiver  and  shrink  at  sight  of  toil  and  hazard, 
And  make  the  impossibility  they /ear."  —  ROWE. 

"AFTER  Queen  Henrietta  Maria's  last  parting  from 
her  husband,  previous  to  the  disastrous  battle  of  New- 
bury,  she  retired  to  Exeter,  there  to  await  her  approach- 
ing confinement,  which  took  place  at  Bedford  House,  in 
that  city,  June  16,  1644. 

"  In  less  than  a  fortnight  after,  the  Earl  of  Essex 
advanced  to  besiege  Exeter,  and,  on  the  queen's  asking 
permission  to  retire  to  Bath,  for  the  completion  of  her 
recovery,  he  returned  for  answer,  '  that  it  was  his  inten- 
tion to  escort  her  Majesty  to  London,  where  her  presence 
was  required  to  answer  to  Parliament  for  having  levied 
war  against  England.'  On  receiving  this  answer,  the 
unfortunate  queen  resolved  to  hazard  every  danger  rather 
than  fall  into  his  hands ;  and,  rising  from  her  bed  of 
languor  and  suffering,  she  escaped  in  disguise  from 
Exeter,  accompanied  by  only  three  persons.  Her  flight 
was  attended  by  such  circumstances  of  peril  and  fatigue 
as  made  it  wonderful  that  her  delicate  frame  did  not  sink 
under  them  ;  but  at  length  she  reached  Pendennis  Castle 
in  safety,  having  been  joined  on  the  road  by  the  rest  of 
her  ladies  and  attendants. 

"  She  had,  however,  been  forced  to  leave  her  new-born 
infant  behind,  for  the  hardship  of  such  a  journey  could 
hardly  but  prove  fatal  to  its  young  life ;  and  this  precious 
charge  she  committed  to  the  care  of  Lady  Morton,  who 
well  redeemed  her  trust. 

"  Shortly  after  the  queen's  escape,  Exeter  was  entered 
by  the  royal  army  ;  for  Charles,  on  hearing  of  his  beloved 
wife's  danger,  had  made  incredible  efforts  to  join  he? 
33* 


390  LOYALTY. 

and,  fighting  his  way  through  every  obstacle,  entered 
that  city  in  triumph  within  a  fortnight  of  her  sudden 
flight.  His  queen  ha^,  however,  already  found  safe 
shelter  m  France ;  but  here  his  infant  daughter  was  pre- 
sented to  him  by  Lady  Morton,  and,  for  the  first  and  the 
last  time,  he  bestowed  a  paternal  embrace  on  his  child. 
Before  this  final  separation,  he  caused  it  to  be  baptized, 
under  the  name  of  Henrietta  Anne.  Then,  having 
relieved  Exeter,  and  made  some  provision  for  the  sup- 
port of  the  young  princess,  he  left  it  under  the  care  of 
her  governess,  Lady  Morton. 

"  This  young  lady  was  daughter  of  Sir  Edward  Vil- 
liers,  and  wife  of  Robert  Douglas,  Earl  of  Morton.  She 
is  spoken  of,  by  contemporary  writers,  as  one  of  the 
most  admired  beauties  of  the  age,  while  the  graces  of 
her  mind  were  not  inferior  to  those  of  her  person.  She 
enjoyed  the  friendship  of  Clarendon,  whose  letters  to  her 
are  expressive  of  strong  esteem  and  regard,  and  was 
high  in  the  queen's  favor,  a  distinction  she  well  deserved, 
by  the  fidelity  of  her  attendance  on  her  at  Exeter,  her 
subsequent  care  of  her  infant  charge,  and,  above  all,  by 
the  extraordinary  courage  and  ingenuity  with  which 
she  effected  the  escape  of  the  little  princess  from  the 
hands  of  the  Parliament. 

"  After  remaining  with  her  charge  some  time  at 
Exeter,  she  had  removed  her  to  Oatlands,  in  Surrey, 
which  had  always  been  used  as  a  nursery -palace  for  the 
royal  children. 

"  The  year  after  this  change,  all  royal  expenses  were 
cashiered  by  the  Parliament;  and  it  was  proposed  tc 
remove  the  Princess  Henrietta  from  Lady  Morton's 
protection,  and  place  her,  with  her  brothers  and  sisters, 
inder  the  care  of  the  Countess  of  Northumberland, 


LOYALTY.  39 1 

Lady  Morton  had,  however,  received  her  charge  from 
the  hands  of  the  queen,  and  to  her  alone  would  she 
surrender  her  trust.  She  resolved,  therefore,  to  escape 
with  the  princess  to  France ;  a  scheme  of  no  small  diffi- 
culty, as  the  expedients  she  resorted  to  amply  prove 

"  She  first  disguised  herself  as  the  wife  of  a  pool 
French  servant,  little  better  than  a  beggar;  but  the  ail 
and  mien  of  '  one  of  the  beautiful  race  of  Villiers '  could 
not  be  hidden  under  the  homeliest  attire.  To  conceal, 
therefore,  the  graceful  proportions  of  her  tall  and  elegant 
figure,  she  made  up  a  hump  for  her  shoulders  with  a 
bundle  of  linen ;  then,  dressing  tne  royal  infant,  now 
about  two  years  old,  in  rags  as  a  beggar-boy,  she  took 
her  upon  her  back,  and  set  out  on  foot  towards  the  coast. 
She  gave  the  poor,  disguised  child  the  name  of  Pierre, 
in  case  any  one  should  ask  its  name,  as  being  the  sound 
most  like  the  broken  accents  by  which  it  called  itself 
'  Princess ; '  and  walked  thus  nearly  all  the  way  to  Dover, 
carrying  her  precious  charge  on  her  back,  who  she  gave 
out  to  be  her  own  little  boy.  Though  adding  to  her 
alarm  and  danger,  she  could  not  help  feeling  amused  at 
the  indignation  of  the  royal  infant  at  her  rags  and  mis- 
erable appearance,  and  the  child's  resolute  endeavors  to 
tell  every  one  they  met  that  she  was  not  Pierre  the  beg- 
gar-boy, but  the  little  princess.  Happily  for  her,  nona 
understood  her  broken  and  imperfect  utterance  but  hei 
affectionate  guardian.  Lady  Morton  had  arranged  every- 
thing so  well,  that  she  crossed  from  Dover  to  Calais 
^vithout  exciting  any  suspicion ;  and,  when  once  on  the 
coast  of  France,  she  could  release  her  little  charge  from 
the  humiliation  she  had  felt  so  deeply,  and  restore  her  to 
all  her  honors  —  no  longer  Pierre,  but  a  princess  once 
more.  She  carried  her  to  Paris,  and  thote  was  repaid 


392  LOYALIY. 

for  all  her  late  perils  by  witnessing  the  mother's  joy  at 
receiving  her  child  once  more  to  her  arms,  whom  she 
had  parted  from  two  years  before,  a  helpless  infant. 
'  Oh,  the  joy  of  that  meeting ! '  says  an  eye-witness ; 
'  oh,  the  consolation  to  the  heart  of  the  mother,  when 
her  little  one,  who  was  lost,  was  found  again !  How 
many  times  we  saw  her  clasp  her  round  the  neck,  kiss 
her,  and  kiss  her  again  ! ' 

"  Lady  Morton  got  no  little  fame  amongst  her  friends, 
assembled  in  Paris,  for  this  bold  and  successful  adven- 
ture ;  and  the  poet  Waller,  who  had  before  written  in 
praise  of  her  beauty,  now  celebrated  her  heroism  in  a 
poem,  addressed  to  her,  and  presented  to  the  queen,  at 
the  Louvre,  on  New  Year's  day,  1647,  from  which  we 
extract  a  passage  of  some  elegance. 

'•  <  But  thus  to  style  you  fair,  your  sex's  praise, 
Gives  you  but  myrtle,  who  may  challenge  bays  ; 
From  armed  foes  to  bring  a  royal  prize, 
Shows  your  brave  heart  victorious  as  your  eyes. 
If  Judith,  marching  with  the  general's  head, 
Can  give  us  passion  when  her  story 's  read, 
What  may  the  living  do,  which  brought  away, 
Though  a  less  bloody,  yet  a  nobler  prey  — 
Who  from  our  flaming  Troy,  with  a  bold  hand, 
Snatched  her  fair  charge,  the  princess,  like  a  brand  ?  — 
A  brand  preserved  to  warm  some  prince's  heart, 
And  make  whole  kingdoms  take  her  brother's  part. 
***** 
This  gallant  act  may  cancel  all  our  rage  — 
Begin  a  better  and  absolve  this  age. 
Dark  shades  become  the  portrait  of  our  time  — 
Here  weeps  Misfortune,  and  there  triumphs  Crime. 
Let  him  that  draws  it  hide  the  rest  in  night ; 
This  portion  only  may  endure  the  light, 
Where  the  kind  nymph,  changing  her  faultless  shape^  * 
Becomes  unhandsome,  handsomely  to  'scape  — 
Where  through  the  guards,  the  river,  and  the  sea, 
Faith,  beauty,  wit,  and  courage  made  their  way. 
As  the  brave  eagle  does  with  sorrow  see 
The  forest  wasted,  and  that  lofty  tree 
Which  holds  her  nest  about  to  be  o'erthrown, 
Before  the  feathers  of  her  young  are  grown ; 


LOYALTY.  393 

She  will  not  leave  them,  nor  she  cannot  stay, 
But  bears  them  boldly  on  her  wings  away  : 
So  fled  the  dame,  and  o'er  the  ocean  bore 
Her  princely  burden  to  the  Gallic  shore.' " 


THE    REGALIA   SAVED   BY  LADY   OGILVIE. 

"  In  conduct,  as  in  courage,  you  excel, 
Still  first  to  act  what  you  advise  so  well." 

POPE'S  HOMIP 

"  SIR  DAVID  OGILVIE,  a  staunch  loyalist,  was  intrusted, 
at  this  period  of  civil  dissensions,  with  the  defence  of 
Dunotter  Castle,  in  Aberdeenshire,  the  ancient  seat  of 
the  Earls  Mareschal  of  Scotland,  which  is  situated  on  a 
high  perpendicular  rock,  almost  surrounded  by  the  sea. 
The  regalia  were  deposited  in  this  castle,  on  account  of 
its  being  a  place  of  great  security.  A  party  of  Crom- 
well's army,  aware  that  this  treasure  was  lodged  here, 
besieged  the  castle  closely ;  and  the  want  of  water 
reducing  the  garrison  to  the  greatest  extremity,  the  los. 
of  the  coronation  ornaments  seemed  inevitable  :  but  Sir 
David's  lady  contrived  an  expedient  that  saved  them 
from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  She  gained 
permission  from  the  English  commander  to  quit  the  for- 
tress, taking  with  her  only  her  personal  wardrobe,  and 
the  wool  which  she  kept  for  spinning,  an  employment  at 
that  time  universal  among  the  ladies  of  Scotland.  She 
left  the  garrison,  driving  before  her  an  ass  carrying  two 
panniers,  laden  with  the  articles  agreed  upon ;  but,  in 
the  inner  folds  of  the  wool,  she  artfully  concealed  the 
highly  valued  regalia  ;  and  when  at  liberty,  by  the  assist- 
ance of  some  friends,  on  whose  honor  she  could  rely, 
she  buried  it  in  a  new  made  grave,  till  happier  times 
afforded  her  an  opportunity  of  presenting  it  to  her  sover- 
eign." 


394  LdYALTY. 


ZING  CHARLES  AND  THE  COOK-MAID. 

"  He  must  be  told  of  it,  and  he  shall :  the  office 
Becomes  a  woman  best ;  I  '11  take  it  upon  me  : 
If  I  prove  honey-mouthed,  let  my  tongue  blister." 

SHAKSFEARE. 

ABBOTS  LEIGH,  about  three  miles  west  from  Bristo' 
claims  attention,  not  only  for  the  singularity  of  the 
structure  of  its  manor-house,  but  also  for  its  having 
afforded  protection  to  Charles  II.,  who  was  so  closely 
pursued,  after  the  battle  of  Worcester,  that  he  had  only 
time,  on  entering  the  house,  to  disguise  himself  by  throw- 
ing a  carter's  frock  over  his  shoulders.  Trusting  his 
secret  with  the  cook-maid,  when  his  enemies  rushed  in, 
and  inquired  if  he  had  been  seen,  she  replied,  "  Anan ;  " 
and  instantly  applied  a  cudgel  to  the  king's  back,  whom 
she  had  set  to  wind  up  the  jack,  at  the  same  time  scold- 
ing him  loudly  for  his  slowness.  His  pursuers,  seeing 
her  behave  with  so  much  apparent  severity,  interceded 
ror  the  poor  lad,  and  left  the  house,  without  suspecting 
the  deception. 

The  block  on  which  Charles  performed  this  servile 
office,  and  the  chair  on  which  he  sat,  are  still  preserved, 
as  relics  of  the  merry  monarch. 

FIDELITY  OF  MRS.  YATES. 

"  Every  one  that  flatters  thee, 
Is  no  friend  in  misery. 
Words  are  easy,  like  the  wind, 
Faithful  friends  are  hard  to  find."  —  SHAKSFEARE. 

"  AFTER  the  fatal  battle  of  Worcester,  so  decisive  of 
the  royal  cause,  King  Charles  the  Second  could  only  find 
his  safety  in  flight  and  concealment.  It  was  at  this  try- 
ing juncture  that  he  was  preserved  by  the  loyalty  of  a 


LOYALTY.  395 

family  named  Penderel,  who  resided  at  Boscobel.  Rich- 
ard Penderel,  who  had  undertaken  the  office  of  guide, 
had  but  just  left  tliat  house  with  the  king,  who  was  in 
disguise,  when  a  troop  of  horse  arrived  at  the  place,  in 
search  of  him.  Richard  conducted  the  royal  fugitive 
into  the  obscurest  part  of  an  adjacent  wood,  belonging 
to  Boscobel,  called  Spring  Coppice,  about  half  a  mile 
from  White  Ladies.  The  rain  poured  in  torrents,  and 
no  tree  was  sufficient  to  shelter  the  king  from  it :  on 
this,  Richard  went  to  the  house  of  a  trusty  neighbor, 
Francis  Yates,  who  had  married  his  sister,  and  borrowed 
a  blanket,  which  he  spread  under  a  tree,  for  the  king  to 
lie  upon ;  he  also  got  Yates'  wife  to  procure  some  vict- 
uals, and  bring  them  to  the  wood,  at  a  place  which  he 
appointed.  She  soon  prepared  a  mess  of  milk,  and  some 
butter  and  eggs,  and  brought  them  to  his  Majesty  in  the 
wood  ;  who,  surprised  to  see  the  woman,  said  cheerfully 
to  her,  '  Good  woman,  can  you  be  faithful  to  a  distressed 
cavalier  ? '  —  '  Yes,  sir,'  she  replied ;  '  I  will  die  rather 
than  discover  you.' 

"  After  this  narrow  escape,  Charles  remained  for  some 
time  under  the  hospitable  roof  of  the  Penderels.  A 
reward  was  offered  for  his  apprehension,  accompanied 
with  dreadful  denunciations  against  those  who  should 
conceal  him ;  but  this  did  not  shake  the  fidelity  of  this 
loyal  family,  who  entertained  their  noble  guest  in  the 
best  manner  they  were  able ;  the  king,  sometimes, 
choosing  to  dress  his  own  victuals. 

"  From  Boscobel,  Charles  escaped  to  Mosely,  and  from 
thence  to  Bentley,  the  house  of  Colonel  Lane.  After 
remaining  there  a  short  time,  he  rode  behind  Mrs.  Lane 
to  Bristol,  where  he  was  well  received  by  several  loyal 
subjects.  He  then  went  to  Brighton,  where  he  embarked, 
and  arrived  safe  in  France." 


396  LO?ALTY. 

DEVOTED  LOYALTY  OF  MRS.  JANE  LANE. 

"  Through  me  may  ye  be  blest,  through  me  obtain 
The  glorious  palm  of  conquest,  and  return 
To  your  exulting  country."  —  WODHULL. 

THE  heroic  and  courageous  action  of  Mrs.  Jane  Lane 
at  this  period,  already  alluded  to,  requires  to  be  more 
minutely  recorded.  Bentley  Hall,  where  this  young 
lady  resided  with  her  father,  Mr.  Lane,  and  her  brother, 
Colonel  John  Lane,  was  about  four  miles  distant  from 
Mosely,  the  place  of  King  Charles'  concealment :  which, 
owing  to  its  owner,  Mr.  Whitgreave,  being  a  Roman 
Catholic,  was  considered  an  unsafe  retreat.  The  friends 
of  Charles  accordingly  proposed  his  removal  to  Bentley, 
Mr.  Lane  being  "  a  person  of  excellent  reputation  for  his 
fidelity  to  the  king;"*  and  who,  it  is  said,  had  already 
diligently  sought  to  discover  where  the  king  lay,  in 
order  "  that  he  might  get  him  to  his  house,  where  he 
was  sure  he  could  conceal  him  till  he  might  contrive  his 
full  deliverance."  This  venerable  gentleman  was  the 
father  of  nine  children,  of  whom,  Colonel  John  Lane, 
the  eldest,  it  was  that  suggested  the  plan  of  employing 
his  young  sister,  Jane,  in  the  scheme  for  escape,  devised 
first  for  Lord  Wilmot,  but  afterwards  changed  for  the 
king  himself.  The  young  lady,  we  are  told,  was  pos- 
sessed of  "  very  good  wit  and  discretion,"  and  was  "  very 
fit  to  bear  a  part  in  such  a  trust."  It  happened  that  at 
this  time  Jane  Lane  was  about  to  visit  a  friend,  Mrs. 
Norton,  of  Abbotsleigh,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Bristol, 
who  was  shortly  expecting  her  confinement ;  and  for  this 
purpose,  a  pass  had  been  procured  from  an  officer  of  the 
parliamentary  army  for  herself  and  her  servant.  Il 
occurred  to  Colonel  Lane,  that  Lord  Wilmot,  who  much 
*  Clarendon. 


LOYALTY.  397 

desired  to  reach  Bristol,  from  whence  he  could  take  ship, 
might  easily  personate  his  sister's  servant ;  and  this  plan 
was  entertained  till,  on  the  failure  of  a  scheme  for 
Charles'  crossing  the  Severn  for  Wales,  it  was  thought 
advisable  that  he  should  avail  himself  of  this  means  of 
escape  instead.  All  this  being  agreed  on,  in  the  dusk 
of  the  evening  Charles  bade  farewell  to  his  devoted 
servants  at  Moseley,  and  was  committed  by  them  to  the 
care  of  Colonel  Lane,  who,  with  the  horses,  lay  in  con- 
cealment near,  to  conduct  him  to  his  house ;  where  they 
arrived  on  Monday  night,  the  9th  of  September,  1651. 
The  king's  personal  appearance  on  his  arrival  at 
Bentley  is  described  as  follows :  his  hair  had  been  cut 
short  at  the  ears,  and  clipped  away  at  the  crown  of  the 
head  even  as  near  as  the  scissors  would  go,  though  long 
flowing  curls  were  the  fashion  of  the  day.  "  He  wore  a 
very  greasy  old  gray  steeple-crowned  hat,  with  the  brims 
turned  up,  without  lining  or  hat-band ;  a  green  junip 
coat,  threadbare,  even  to  the  threads  being  worn  white  ; 
and  breeches  of  the  same,  with  long  knees  down  to  the 
garter;  with  an  old  leathern  doublet,  a  pair  of  white 
flannel  stockings,  next  his  legs,  which  the  king  said  were 
his  boot  stockings,  the  embroidered  tops  being  cut  off, 
to  prevent  them  being  discovered,  and  upon  them  a  pair 
of  old  green  yarn  stockings,  all  worn  and  darned  at  the 
knees,  with  their  feet  cut  off;  his  shoes  were  old,  all 
slashed,  for  the  ease  of  his  feet,  which  had  been  sorely 
galled  in  his  long  marches ; "  he  wore  no  gloves,  and  his 
hands  had  been  carefully  covered  with  walnut-juice,  as  a 
completion  of  his  disguise.  Having  conferred  with  Lord 
Wilmot  and  Colonel  Lane,  on  next  day's  journey,  and 
supped,  the  king  retired  to  bed,  though  his  rest  could  be 
but  short,  £ir  at  break  of  day  his  host  called  him  up, 
34 


198  LOYALTY. 

providing  him  with  a  suitable  disguise  for  the  new 
character  he  was  to  assume.  He  was  now  to  personate 
the  son  of  one  of  Colonel  Lane's  tenants,  and  to  change 
his  name  from  Will  Jones,  which  he  had  hitherto  borne, 
to  William  Jackson.  To  bear  out  this  change,  Colonel 
Lane  provided  him  with  a  new  suit  and  cloak  of  country 
gray  cloth,  as  near  as  could  be  contrived  like  the  holiday 
suit  of  a  farmer's  son,  a  disguise  more  convenient  for 
their  present  intentions  than  that  of  a  servant  would 
have  been.  His  dress  being  now  complete,  Colonel  Lane 
took  the  king  by  a  back  way  to  the  stable,  where  he 
fitted  his  stirrups,  and  gave  him  some  instructions  for 
better  acting  his  part;  then  mounted  him  on  a  good 
"  double  horse,"  and  directed  him  to  come  to  the  gate  of 
the  house,  which  he  did,  with  a  fitting  air  of  humility, 
carrying  his  hat  under  his  arm.  By  this  time  it  was 
twilight,  and  old  Mrs.  Lane,  who  knew  nothing  of  this 
great  secret,  "would  needs  see  her  beloved  daughter 
take  horse ;"  and,  as  she  was  standing  for  this  purpose, 
the  colonel  said  to  the  young  king,  "  Will,  thou  must  give 
my  sister  thy  hand."  But  he,  unacquainted  with  such 
little  offices,  offered  his  hand  the  contrary  way,  —  a  piece 
of  awkwardness  which  attracted  the  old  lady's  attention, 
who,  laughing,  remarked  to  her  son,  "  What  a  goodly 
horseman  her  daughter  had  got  to  ride  before  her ! " 
The  party  thus  setting  out  consisted,  besides  the  king 
and  his  young  protectress,  of  Mr.  Henry  Lascelles,  her 
cousin,  who  was  admitted  into  the  king's  secret,  and 
Mrs.  Peters,  a  married  sister  of  Jane  Lane's,  and  her 
husband,  both  of  whom  were  in  entire  ignorance  of  it. 
They  were  followed,  in  another  route,  by  Colonel  Lane 
and  Lord  Wilmot,  with  hawk  and  hounds  as  a  disguise, 
who  that  night  took  up  their  lodging  at  the  house  of  Sir 


LOYALTY.  399 

Clement  Fisher,  at  Pockington,  in  Warwickshire,  whose 
name  we  shall  have  occasion  to  mention  hereafter  in 
connection  with  Jane  Lane.  The  colonel  knew  that  at  his 
house  "  they  would  both  be  as  welcome  as  generosity 
and  as  secure  as  fidelity,  could  make  them." 

When  the  royal  party  had  gone  about  two  hours  on 
their  journey,  the  king's  horse  cast  a  shoe ;  and  he  had 
to  take  it  to  the  next  forge  to  have  it  replaced.  "  As  I 
was  holding  my  horse's  foot,"  says  the  king,  in  his  own 
account  of  this  unlucky  accident,  "  I  asked  the  smith, 
what  news  ?  He  told  me  that  there  was  no  news,  that 
he  knew  of,  since  the  good  news  of  the  beating  of  the 
rogues,  the  Scots.  I  asked  him  whether  there  were 
none  of  the  English  taken  that  joined  with  the  Scots. 
He  answered  that  he  did  not  hear  that  that  rogue  Charles 
was  taken,  but  some  of  the  others  were  taken,  but  not 
Charles  Stuart.  I  told  him,  that,  if  that  rogue  was 
taken,  he  deserved  to  be  hanged  more  than  all  the  rest, 
for  bringing  in  the  Scots.  Upon  which  he  said,  I  spoke 
like  an  honest  man ;  and  so  we  parted." 

Halting  to  refresh  their  horses  at  Wootton,  within  two 
or  three  miles  of  Stratford,  they  caught  sight  of  a  troop 
of  cavalry.  Mr.  Peters,  who  had  before  experienced  ill 
treatment  from  the  soldiers,  declared  he  would  not  pass 
through  them  to  be  beaten  again,  and  was  resolute  in 
turning  back ;  the  very  course  to  excite  suspicion.  The 
king,  hearing  him  say  so,  whispered  softly  in  the  ear  of 
his  companion,  that  they  might  not  turn  back  :  "  but  all 
she  could  say  in  the  world  would  not  do."  Mr.  Peters 
resisted  his  sister-in-law's  earnest  persuasions,  and  turn- 
ing back  with  his  wife,  entered  Stratford  another  way. 
The  king,  however,  by  no  means  disconcerted,  rodt1 
leisurely  through  the  midst  of  them,  without  exciting 


400  LOYALTY. 

notice ;  and,  if  the  heart  of  his  young  companion  beat 
quicker  in  this  peril,  she  betrayed  no  unworthy  signs  of 
it.  Indeed,  throughout,  she  well  deserved  the  praise  Mr. 
Whitgreave  has  left  of  her — "that,  in  all  this  journey, 
Mrs.  Lane  performed  the  part  of  a  most  faithful  and 
prudent  servant  to  his  Majesty,  showing  her  observance 
when  an  opportunity  would  allow  it,  and  at  other  times 
acting  her  part  in  the  disguise  with  much  discretion." 

At  Stratford  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peters  left  them,  to  pursue 
their  journey  to  Windsor;  and  the  royal  party,  now 
reduced  to  three,  rested  for  the  night  at  Mr.  'Tomb's, 
of  Long-Marston,  with  whom  Jane  Lane  was  well 
acquainted,  whence  they  proceeded  next  day,  without 
any  considerable  accident,  to  Cirencester,  a  distance  of 
four-and-twenty  miles.  The  adventure  of  King  Charles 
with-  the  cook-maid,  already  related,  is  said  by  some  to 
have  occurred  at  Long-Marston,  and  not  at  Abbotsleigh ; 
it  certainly  was  not  one  of  the  least  of  the  king's  escapes, 
on  this  most  perilous  journey. 

At  Cirencester  the  royal  party  proceeded  to  the  Sun, 
where  they  took  up  their  lodging.  After  supper,  a  good 
bed  was  provided  there  for  Mr.  Lascelles,  and  a  truckle- 
bed  in  the  same  chamber  for  Will  Jackson ;  however,  as 
soon  as  they  were  left  to  themselves,  Mr.  Lascelles  made 
his  Majesty  take  the  best  of  the  two,  an  observance  he 
used  whenever  an  opportunity  permitted. 

On  the  following  day,  Friday,  they  arrived  at  their 
destination  —  Mr.  Norton's,  of  Abbotsleigh.  It  is  related 
that  "  on  their  passing  through  Bristol,  a  place  so  well 
known  to  the  king,  he  could  not  forbear  gazing  about  to 
see  the  alterations;  and  coming  near  where  the  great 
fort  had  stood,  he  rode,  with  his  mistress  behind  him,  aU 
round  it.  In  the  indulgence  of  this  somewhat  unseason- 


LOYALTY.  40 

able  curiosity,  he  lost  his  way,  and  had  to  inquire  for  it 
of  a  passer-by. 

"  On  their  arrival  at  Abbotsleigh,  after  a  thirty  miles' 
journey,  William  walked  with  his  mistress'  horse  to  the 
stable,  till  she  could  make  arrangements  for  his  retreat. 
For  this  purpose,  it  had  been  agreed  between  them  that 
they  should  feign  he  had  been  suffering  under  the  ague, 
which  would  furnish  an  excuse  for  his  retiring  to  his  bed 
immediately,  and  also  enable  his  mistress  to  secure  a 
better  diet  for  him,  —  an  act  of  loyal  duty  which  she 
seems  to  have  had  always  at  heart.  The  king's  pale- 
ness, from  recent  fatigue  and  want  of  support,  very  con- 
veniently carried  out  the  notion  of  his  having  been  ill. 

"  Mrs.  Jane  was  very  warmly  and  kindly  welcomed 
by  Mrs.  Norton  ;  but,  though  feeling  the  fullest  and  mos> 
deserved  confidence  both  in  her  friend's  and  Mr.  Nor- 
ton's loyalty,  she  felt  it  best  not  to  confide  the  important 
secret  to  them,  lest  their  anxiety  to  show  their  respect 
and  observance  might  create  suspicion.  Therefore  she 
took  an  early  occasion  to  lament  to  Mrs.  Norton  th?» 
condition  of  a  good  youth  who  came  with  her,  who  wss 
very  sick,  being  newly  recovered  of  an  ague ;  and 
requested  that  a  chamber  might  be  provided  for  him  and 
a  good  fire  made  ;  for  that  he  would  go  early  to  bed,  and 
was  not  fit  to  be  below  stairs.  A  pretty  little  chamber 
was,  therefore,  presently  made  ready,  and  a  fire  pre- 
pared ;  to  which  Pope,  the  butler,  on  Mrs.  Lane's  com- 
mending the  youth  to  hir  care,  introduced  him.  When 
it  was  supper-time,  there  was  broth  at  table ;  and  Mrs. 
Jane,  filling  a  dish  with  it,  desired  the  butler,  who  was 
waiting  at  table,  to  carry  that  dish  of  porridge  to 
William,  and  to  tell  him  he  should  have  some  meat  sent 
him  presently.  The  butler  carried  the  porridge,  as  he 
34* 


402  LOYALTY 

was  desired,  into  the  chamber,  with  a  napkin,  and  spoo& 
and  bread,  and  spoke  kindly  to  the  young  man,  '  who 
was  willing  to  be  eating.' 

"  The  next  morning,  having,  as  he  says,  a  pretty  good 
stomach,  William  rose  early,  and  went  down  to  the 
buttery  to  get  his  breakfast,  where  he  found  Pope,  the 
butler,  and  some  other  men.  They  all  fell  to  eating 
bread  and  butter ;  the  butler  supplying  them  with  ale 
and  sack.  As  they  were  sitting,  one  of  the  men  began 
giving  an  account  of  the  battle  of  Worcester,  where  he 
had  fought  in  the  king's  own  regiment  of  guards.  To 
test  him,  Charles  asked  for  a  description  of  himself. 
The  man  answered  quite  correctly  of  his  dress  and  his 
horse  :  but  said  the  king  was  three  fingers  taller  than  his 
questioner.  In  spite  of  this  inaccuracy,  Charles  felt  it 
wise  to  make  what  haste  he  could  out  of  the  buttery ; 
fearing  the  man  more  when  he  knew  him  to  be  one  of 
his  own  soldiers,  than  when  he  had  supposed  him  a 
Roundhead,  from  his  greater  knowledge  of  his  person 
Pope  and  he  retired  together  from  the  buttery,  and 
entered  the  hall  just  as  Mrs.  Norton  passed  through  it ; 
on  which,  Charles,  sustaining  his  assumed  character, 
took  off  his  hat,  and  stood  with  it  in  his  hand  till  she 
had  passed  by.  During  this  time  he  was  aware  that 
Pope  was  narrowly  observing  him  ;  but,  feigning  to  take 
no  notice,  he  resumed  his  hat,  and  walked  out  into  the 
fields.  This  man  had,  in  fact,  been  a  member  of  his 
household  as  Prince  of  Wales,  and  had  afterwards 
served  in  the  army  of  Charles  I. ;  and  his  memory 
being  probably  refreshed  by  the  conversation  in  the 
buttery,  he  now  went  at  once  to  Mrs.  Lane,  and 
expressed  his  strong  suspicion  of  its  being  the  king. 
She  put  him  off  a  s  well  as  she  could ;  but  informed  her 


LOYALTY.  403 

cousin,  Mr.  Lascelles,  and  the  king,  of  what  he  h*d  said. 
Charles  inquired  of  his  character,  and  whether  they 
knew  him  to  be  an  honest  man ;  and  on  Mr.  Lascelles 
assuring  him  that  he  knew  Pope  to  be  so  honest  a  fellow 
that  he  dare  trust  him  with  his  life,  the  king  decided  on 
trusting  him  rather  than  leaving  him  in  his  present  sus- 
picion, and  immediately  sent  for  him.  and  told  him  he 
was  very  glad  to  meet  him  there,  and  would  trust  him 
with  his  life,  as  an  old  acquaintance.  Pope,  in  reply, 
answered  that  he  thought  it  very  fortunate  he  had  recog- 
nized his  Majesty ;  for,  though  his  master  and  mistress 
were  good  people,  yet  there  were  at  that  time  one  or  two 
in  the  house  who  were  great  rogues,  and  expressed  his 
hope  of  being  of  real  service.  He  was,  in  fact,  found 
extremely  useful ;  both  in  doing  the  king's  errands  to 
Bristol  in  search  of  a  ship  to  carry  him  to  Spain  or 
France,  and  as  a  means  of  communication  with  Lord 
Wilmot,  who  might  not  venture  by  day  to  Abbotsleigh, 
where  there  were  many  well  acquainted  with  his  person. 
Pope  contrived,  however,  to  bring  him  to  the  king  by 
night,  who  could  thus  hold  consultations  with  him,  in 
conjunction  with  Jane  Lane  and  her  cousin ;  for  her 
thoughtfulness  and  discretion  made  her  a  valued  adviser. 
"  Pope's  mission  to  Bristol  proved  unsuccessful ;  he 
could  hear  of  no  ship  leaving  for  either  of  the  required 
countries  within  a  month,  a  delay  too  long  to  be  thought 
of.  The  king,  therefore,  held  a  council  what  had  best  be 
done  next,  as  it  was  losing  time  to  remain  longer  at 
Abbotsleigh ;  and  it  was  suggested  to  him,  that  on  the 
oorders  of  Somersetshire  there  lived  his  very  devoted 
adherents,  the  Wyndhams  of  Trent,  beyond  Sherborne 
This  was  considered  by  all  a  very  safe  asylum  ;  and  the 
circumstance  of  one  of  the  ladies  of  the  family,  Christa- 


404  LOYALTY. 

bell?,  wife  of  Knight  Marshall  Wyndham,  having  beet 
his  nurse,  served  to  give  the  king  additional  confidence, 
and  inclined  him  warmly  to  this  counsel ;  and  without 
delay,  as  he  says,  '  Frank  Wyndham  being  my  old 
acquaintance  and  a  very  honest  man,  I  resolved  to  go 
to  his  house.' 

"  So  far  all  was  settled,  and  Lord  Wilmot  was  sent 
forward  to  prepare  Colonel  Wyndham  for  the  reception 
of  his  guest ;  when,  the  night  before  they  had  decided 
on  starting  for  this  journey,  a  cross  accident  threw  them 
into  much  consternation.  Mrs.  Norton,  whom  Jane 
Lane  had  come  so  far  to  visit,  was  taken  extremely  ill, 
and  gave  birth  to  a  dead  child  ;  she  was,  indeed,  in  such 
an  alarming  condition,  that  they  knew  not  how  to  devise 
an  excuse  for  her  friend  leaving  her  in  such  a  state,  and 
yet  this  young  lady  was  entirely  necessary  to  the  safety 
of  the  expedition. 

"  In  this  emergency,  the  king's  quickness  suggested 
the  scheme  of  counterfeiting  a  letter  from  her  home  at 
Bentley,  informing  her  of  her  father's  sudden  and  dan- 
gerous illness,  and  urging  her  to  return  immediately  if 
she  would  see  him  alive.  All  parties  were  employed  to 
carry  out  this  stratagem.  Pope,  the  butler,  delivered  the 
letter  during  supper,  and  Mrs.  Jane,  though  we  may  well 
suppose  the  nature  of  the  deceit  made  it  very  painful  to 
her,  yet  performed  her  part  so  dexterously  that  all  were 
anxious  to  further  her  departure,  and  settled  for  her  that 
she  must  set  out  on  her  journey  early  next  morning, 
Tuesday,  the  16th  of  September. 

"  It  was  arranged  that  the  king's  party  should  rest 
that  night  at  Castle  Gary,  about  six  miles  from  Trent,  so 
as  to  arrive  there  for  breakfast  next  morning.  When 
Lord  Wilmot,  who  travelled  in  advance,  over  night,  in- 


LOYALTY.  405 

formed  Colonel  Wyndham  that  the  king  would  be  with 
him  next  day,  that  loyal  person  was  transported  with 
joy ;  it  having  been  rumored  that  the  king  had  been 
killed  at  Worcester.  That  night  he  kept  the  secret; 
but  next  morning  found  it  necessary  to  acquaint  the 
ladies  of  his  family  of  the  perilous  honor  awaiting  them. 
These  were  Lady  Wyndham  his  mother,  his  wife,  and 
his  niece,  Juliana  Coningsby,  who  afterwards  undertook 
the  service  Jane  Lane  had  hitherto  rendered  the  king. 
The  recorder  of  this  scene  assures  us  that  the  relation 
Colonel  Wyndham  gave  these  ladies  did  not,  through 
the  weakness  of  their  sex,  bring  upon  them  any  woman- 
ish passion,  but,  surprised  with  joy,  they  most  cheerfully 
resolved,  without  the  least  show  of  fear,  to  hazard  all  for 
the  safety  of  the  king.  Charles,  indeed,  in  the  period  of 
his  adversity  and  greatest  need,  had  little  reason  to  talk 
of  the  weakness  of  the  sex ;  for  throughout  his  wander- 
ings, his  safety  was  secured  and  his  needs  supplied  by 
women,  who  faithfully  kept  his  secret,  and  were  far  more 
alive  to  the  honor  than  the  danger  of  entertaining  such 
a  guest.  The  ladies  thus  intrusted  set  about  arranging 
how  his  Majesty  might  be  brought  into  the  house  with- 
out any  suspicion  to  their  household,  which  consisted  of 
about  twenty  persons.  To  this  end,  they  confided  the 
secret  to  two  of  the  maids,  Eleanor  Withers  and  Joan 
Halsenoth,  and  one  of  the  men-servants;  all  of  tried 
faith  and  loyalty,  and  able  to  give  efficient  help  in  this 
emergency. 

"  Between  nine  and  ten  in  the  morning,  Colonel 
Wyndham  and  his  lady  walked  out  in  the  fields  in  the 
direction  whence  they  expected  the  king;  and  presently 
Uiey  perceived  the  approach  of  a  lady,  riding  behind  a 
pale  and  meanly-dressed  young  man  on  a  double  hoi^e 


406  LOYALTY. 

with  Mr.  Lascelles  in  their  company.  '  Frank,  Frank ! 
cried  the  king,  '  how  dost  thou  do  ? '  and  Colonel  Wynd 
ham  joyfully  recognized  his  sovereign,  and  '  perceived  by 
this  gracious  pleasance,  that,  though  his  Majesty's  habit 
and  countenance  were  much  changed,  yet  his  heroic 
spirit  was  the  same,  and  his  mind  immutable.' 

"  Apprehensive  of  the  observation  and  suspicion  of 
neighbors,  the  colonel  hurried  the  king  and  his  fair  com- 
panion into  Mrs.  Wyndham's  room,  which  had  been 
prepared  for  his  reception  ;  when,  the  account  says,  '  the 
passions  of  joy  and  sorrow  did  a  while  combat  in  them 
who  beheld  his  sacred  person.'  Presently  the  party  was 
joined  by  Lord  Wilmot,  and  the  ladies  withdrew  with 
Mrs.  Jane  into  the  parlor;  having  previously  agreed 
amongst  themselves,  in  order  to  avoid  suspicion,  to 
address  her  as  their  cousin,  and  to  treat  her  with  a  show 
of  intimacy  and  familiarity  becoming  that  relation  ;  and, 
though  strangers  till  now,  how  naturally  would  their 
feelings  acknowledge  and  carry  out  this  suddenly 
assumed  friendship,  —  their  hearts  warm  in  one  common 
cause,  and  all  involved  in  one  danger ! 

"  Having  thus  conducted  her  king  amongst  old  and 
faithful  friends,  Jane  Lane  had  done  her  part ;  and  next 
lay,  therefore,  she  humbly  took  her  leave  of  him,  and 
returned  with  Lascelles,  by  his  Majesty's  permission,  into 
Staffordshire,  where,  though  now  her  active  service  was 
no  longer  needed,  she  could  still  aid  him  by  her  prayers. 

"  It  is  well  known  how  Charles,  in  the  course  of  the 
next  month,  effected  his  escape  to  France ;  and  about  the 
middle  of  December  following,  Colonel  Lane  and  his 
sister  felt  it  necessary  to  take  refuge  there  also,  to  avoid 
the  consequences  to  which  their  loyalty  might  expose 
them. 


LOYALTY.  407 

"  The  manner  of  their  flight  and  reception  is  given 
in  a  little  book:*  published  soon  after  the  Restoration, 
the  particulars  of  which  are  honorable  to  the  good  feeling 
of  the  king  and  his  family  :  — 

"'In  December,  1651,  arrived  at  Paris  the  gentle- 
woman who  had  been  instrumental  in  his  Majesty'? 
deliverance  after  the  overthrow  of  Worcester ;  of  which 
fearing  danger,  by  the  discovery  of  some  unfaithful  con- 
fidants, she  went  on  foot,  in  disguise,  to  Yarmouth,  and 
there  took  ship  for  France.  She  was  conducted  to  Paris* 
with  great  honor ;  the  king  himself,  with  the  queen  his 
mother,  and  the  Dukes  of  York  and  Gloucester,  going 
out  to  meet  her.  Upon  the  first  sight,  his  Majesty  took 
her  by  the  hand,  and  saluted  hor  with  this  obliging 
term :  "  Welcome,  my  life !  "  The  French  court  also 
regarded  her  with  much  respect  and  honor,  together  with 
her  brother,  Colonel  Lane,  who  accompanied  her  thither.' 

"  There  is  also  a  letter  extant,  from  the  king,  the 
perusal  of  which  will  give  pleasure,  as  proving  his  sense 
of  what  he  owed  to  her.  It  is  without  date,  and  runs  as 
follows :  — 

'  MISTRESS  LANE  :  —  I  hope  you  do  not  believe  that 
hearing  from  a  person  that  I  am  so  much  beholding  to 
can  be  in  the  least  degree  troublesome  to  me,  that  am  so 
sensible  of  the  obligations  I  have  to  you ;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  'tis  a  great  satisfaction  to  me  to  hear  from 
you ;  and  for  what  Mr.  Boswell  is  pleased  to  tell  you 
concerning  your  giving  me  good  counsel  in  a  letter,  and 
my  making  it  public  in  my  bed-chamber,  is  not  the  first 
lie  he  has  made,  nor  will  not  be  the  last,  for  I  am  cer- 
tain there  was  never  anything  spoken  in  the  bed-chamber 
in  my  hearing  to  any  such  purpose,  nor,  I  am  confident, 

*Bosrobel  Tracts. 


408  LOYALTY. 

when  I  was  not  there ;  for  I  believe  Mr.  Boswell's  end 
is  to  show  his  frequent  being  in  my  bed-chamber,  which 
is  as  true  as  the  other.  Your  cousin  will  let  you  know 
that  I  have  gives  crders  for  my  picture  for  you ;  and  if 
in  this,  as  in  anytning  else,  I  can  show  the  sense  I  have 
of  that  which  I  owe  you,  pray  let  me  know  it,  and  it 
shall  be  d  ine  by 

'Your  most  assured  and  constant  friend, 

'For  Mr*.  Lane.'  'CHARLES  R. 

•  • 

"  It  is  supposed  that  our  heroine  remained  in  France 

till  the  Restoration ;  shortly  after  which  she  married  her 
brother's  friend,  Sir  Clement  Fisher,  whose  name  has 
been  already  mentioned.  A  pension  of  a  l.OOO/.  a  year 
was  settled  upon  her  by  the  king ;  and  this  token  of  his 
gratitude  was  accompanied  by  the  gift  of  a  gold  watch, 
which,  by  his  express  request,  was  to  descend  by  succes- 
sion to  the  eldest  daughter  of  the  house  of  Lane  for  the 
time  being.  In  1830,  this  relic  was  in  the  possession  of 
Vhe  dowager  Mrs.  Lucy,  of  Charlecot  Park. 

"  There  is  a  portrait,  by  Lely,  still  in  existence,  of 
Jane  Lane,  the  description  of  which  gives  the  idea  of 
great  beauty.  It  is  said  strongly  to  resemble  the  por- 
traits of  Anne  Boleyn,  in  its  thoughtful  expression,  as 
well  as  in  the  features  and  color  of  the  hair."* 

HEROIC  ENTERPRISE    OF  FLORA    MACDONALD. 

"  Honors  best  thrive, 

When  rather  from  our  acts  we  them  derive 
Than  our  foregoers."  SHAKSPEARK. 

AMONG  the  most  heroic  and  devoted  acts  of  the  female 
sex,  there  can  scarcely  be  found  one  more  deserving  of 

*  The  above  account  is  extracted  from  a  delightful  little 
volume  recently  published  under  the  title  of  "  Tales  of  Fema  • 
Heroism." 


LOYALTY.  40t 

our  admiration  than  that  by  which  Flora  Macdonald,  a 
young-,  noble,  and  high-spirited  maiden,  preserved  the 
life  of  her  prince,  Charles  Edward  Stuart,  from  destruc- 
tion ;  nor  can  we  record  without  the  strongest  feeling  of 
sympathy  the  narrative  of  those  perils  which  this  heroic 
girl  dared  to  encounter,  under  the  influence  of  the  sacred 
principle  of  loyalty,  —  perils  from  which  the  boldest  of 
Prince  Charles'  adherents  would  have  shrunk  in  despair; 
yet  it  is  in  such  moments  of  danger  that  the  noble  and 
self-devoted  spirit  of  woman  shines  forth  in  its  greatest 
purity,  and  we  discover  of  how  much  the  weakest  and 
most  gentle  are  capable ;  and  such  were  the  circum- 
stances which  brought  the  name  of  Flora  Macdonald 
from  the  quiet  obscurity  of  private  life,  and  linking 
it  by  a  great  and  glorious  deed  with  that  of  the  roya 
exile  of  the  house  of  Stuart,  transmitted  it  to  the 
admiration  of  future  ages  with  every  history  of  the 
times  in  which  she  lived, 

After  the  fatal  battle  of  Culloden,  so  ruinous  to  the 
hopes  of  the  young  Pretender,  the  only  chance  of  that 
prince's  safety  seemed  to  rest  in  his  effecting  his  escape 
to  France.  Having  dismissed  the  two  troops  of  horse  by 
which  he  was  attended,  and  bidden  farewell  to  his 
friends,  the  unfortunate  prince,  unattended  except  by  a 
few  faithful  followers,  made  the  best  of  his  way  to 
Long  Island,  expecting  to  find  there  a  ship  that  would 
convey  him  to  the  continent.  He  did  not  arrive  at  the 
place  of  his  destination  without  encountering  many 
difficulties,  and  suffering  from  want  of  provisions,  as 
well  as  ill-health,  caused  by  his  disastrous  circunx-tances  ; 
but  greater  evils  awaited  the  fugitives,  for  the  king's 
troops,  as  soon  as  the  escape  of  the  Pretender  was 
known,  had  been  sent  in  every  direction  in  search  ot 
35 


410  LOYALTY. 

lim ;  a  price  was  set  upon  his  head,  and,  on  arriving  in 
South  Uist,  an  island  twenty  miles  long,  and  three  or 
four  miles  only  in  breadth,  Charles  Edward  learned  that 
General  Campbell  and  his  men,  about  two  thousand  in 
number,  had  arrived  there  in  pursuit  of  him.  These 
soldiers  now  dispersed  themselves  over  the  island,  in 
hopes  ol  earning  the  promised  reward;  and  the  only 
thance  of  Charles'  escape  seemed  to  be  the  coast, 
ilthough  that  was  guarded  by  ships  of  war  of  every 
uze.  Every  boat  was  subjected  to  a  strict  examination, 
every  ferry  was  guarded,  and  it  would  have  been  impos- 
sible for  any  person  to  quit  the  island  without  obtaining 
t  passport,  or  submitting  to  an  accusation  of  high  treason. 
So  resource,  indeed,  except  that  of  surrendering  them- 
selves into  the  hands  of  the  enemies,  appeared  to  await 
the  unhappy  exiles,  who,  after  every  kind  of  privation,  — 
hungex,  thirst  and  exposure  to  the  weather, — appeared 
now  to  have  ai lived  at  the  climax  of  their  fate ;  yet 
it  was  at  this  cans  an  unforeseen  protector  was  raised 
up  by  Heaven  ioi  the  unfortunate  Charles.  This  pro- 
tector was  no  othei  than  the  youthful  Flora  Macdonald. 
Many  idle  and  frivolous  stories  have  been  invented 
concerning  Flora,  which  seek  to  enhance  the  merit  of 
the  action  performed  by  her,  by  conferring  on  her  the 
addition  of  rank  and  wealth ;  but  these  were  needless, 
for  she  was  no  other  than  a  simple,  modest,  and  unassum- 
ing girl,  whose  meut  arose  from  her  having  courage  and 
fidelity  to  defend  hur  fugitive  prince  in  distress  and  dan- 
ger. The  Laird  oi  Clanranald,  whose  son  had  fought 
at  Culloden,  was  trie  owner  of  the  greater  part  of  the 
island  of  South  Uist,  and  at  the  time  Charles  came  to 
that  part  of  the  Hebrides,  Flora  Macdonald,  his  kins- 
woman, was  staying  upon  a  visit  with  his  lady,  having 


LOYALTY.  411 

crossed  over  thitner  from  her  own  home,  in  the  Isle  of 
Skye. 

Immediately  upon  Charles'  arrival,  he  had  sent  to  the 
old  Laird  of  Clanranald,  to  apprise  him  of  his  melan- 
choly position.  That  faithful  chieftain  immediately 
repaired  to  the  spot  where  he  had  taken  refuge  —  a 
small  hut,  the  entrance  to  which  was  so  low  that  it  was 
necessary  to  enter  it  creeping  upon  hands  and  feet; 
there  he  and  his  companions  were  found  to  be  subsisting 
upon  shell-fish,  the  garments  of  the  prince  being  worn 
away  to  mere  tatters,  and  his  body  afflicted  with  a  dis- 
ease resembling  the  leprosy,  the  result  of  his  mental  and 
bodily  sufferings.  Clanranald  furnished  them  with  bet- 
ter food  and  fresh  apparel,  and  removed  Charles  to  a 
small  house  at  Corodale,  in  the  centre  of  the  island,  for 
greater  security,  appointing  the  inhabitants  to  keep 
strict  watch  against  the  enemy.  There,  however,  he 
ran  great  risk,  more  than  once,  of  being  taken  prisoner, 
and  was  forced  to  shift  his  quarters  frequently  in  the 
same  night,  being  at  times  close  to  his  pursuers.  This 
state  of  things  could  not  last,  and  it  was  determined 
that  O'Sullivan  and  MacLeod  should  be  dismissed,  to 
make  concealment  more  easy,  and  thus,  of  all  his  follow- 
ers, O'Neill  alone  remained  about  the  person  of  his 
prince  at  this  critical  moment.  It  was  this  chief  who, 
happening  one  day  to  name,  at  the  house  of  Clanranald. 
the  misery  and  destitution  to  which  the  Jacobites  had 
become  reduced,  and  the  helpless  condition  of  Prince 
Charles,  was  rejoiced  to  observe  the  lively  interest 
with  which  his  narrative  was  listened  to  by  Mus  Mac- 
donald,  who  declared  that  "  if  she  could  do  anything  to 
relieve  the  prince's  sufferings,  or  to  rescue  him  from  the 
fury  of  his  enemies,  she  would  do  it  with  all  her  heart" 


412  LOYALTY. 

O'Neill  immediately  replied  that  it  was  in  her  power 
to  render  the  prince  the  most  signal  service,  if  she  could 
convey  him  from  South  Uist  to  Skye,  and  proposed  that 
he  should  accompany  her  in  female  attire  as  her  maid. 
This  proposal  at  first  appeared  to  Flora  as  whimsical,  so 
that  she  declined  being  accessory  to  it;  but  she  expressed 
a  great  desire  to  see  the  prince,  to  whom  she  was  accord- 
ingly introduced,  at  the  house  of  her  brother,  Angus 
Macdonald,  at  Milton.*  The  sight  of  the  worn-out  and 
sickly  frame  of  Charles,  who,  emaciated  with  sufferings, 
still  preserved  "  a  firm  and  dignified  bearing,  and  even 
a  kind  of  cheerfulness  and  gayety,"  was  an  appeal  which 
Flora  was  unable  to  withstand.  She  at  once  declared 
her  willingness  to  convey  the  Prince  to  Skye,  in  the 
manner  proposed  by  O'Neill,  should  no  better  plan  offer 
itself  for  his  escape.  She  immediately  set  out,  on  Sat- 
urday, June  21st,  for  the  house  of  Lady  Clanranald,  to 
make  preparations  for  her  departure,  being  accompanied 
by  her  servant,  Niel  MacKechan.  On  the  way  thither, 
they  were  stopped  by  a  party  of  militia,  who  demanded 
their  passports.  Unable  to  furnish  these,  Flora  inquired 
the  name  of  their  commander,  and  having  learned,  to 
her  great  joy,  that  it  was  Hugh  Macdonald,  her  own 
step-father,t  demanded  to  be  taken  to  his  presence,  at 
the  same  time  declining  to  answer  any  further  questions. 
During  that  night  she  and  her  companion  were  detained 
as  prisoners,  but  the  next  day  (Sunday)  she  obtained  an 
interview  with  her  step-father.  She  then  undertook  the 

*  Mr.  Macdonald,  the  father  of  Flora,  had  been  a  gentleman 
farmer  of  Milton,  in  South  Uist.  —  BOSWELL. 

f  Flora's  father  having  died  some  years  previously,  her  mother 
had  espoused  Hugh  Macdonald  of  Armadale,  of  the  Isle  of  Skye  ; 
he  was  senior  captain  of  the  troops  daily  engaged  'n  tracking 
Ihr  footsteps  of  the  Pretender. 


LOYALTY.  413 

difficult  task  of  obtaining  from  him  a  pass  for  three  per- 
sons to  the  Isle  of  Skye ;  viz.,  for  herself,  for  her  servant 
Neil,  and  for  Betty  Burke,  an  Irish  maid,  for  such,  it 
was  intended,  should  be  the  travelling  disguise  of  the 
prince.  It  is  not  known  by  what  arguments  Flora  pre- 
vailed on  her  step-father  to  give  her  the  desired  pass ; 
whether  he  was  actually  admitted  into  her  confidence,  or 
was  misled  and  imposed  upon  by  her ;  but  it  appears 
most  natural  to  suppose  that  the  dictates  of  humanity 
caused  him  to  grant  his  young  petitioner's  request.  The 
letter  was  couched  in  the  following  terms :  — 

"  I  have  sent  your  daughter  from  this  country,  lest  she 
should  be  any  way  frightened  with  the  troops  lying 
here.  She  has  got  one  Betty  Burke,  an  Irish  girl,  who, 
as  she  tells  me,  is  a  good  spinster.  If  her  spinning 
pleases  you,  you  may  keep  her  till  she  spins  all  your 
lint ;  or,  if  you  have  any  wool  to  spin,  you  may  employ 
her.  I  am  your  dutiful  husband, 

"HuGH  MACDONALD." 

Flora,  having  now  furnished  herself  with  the  required 
pass,  hastened  to  provide  the  garments  for  the  prince's 
disguise.  Through  the  aid  of  Lady  Clanranald,  she 
procured  these ;  they  consisted  of  the  attire  usually  worn 
by  Irish  peasant  girls,  "  a  printed  cotton  gown,  a  white 
apron,  a  large  coarse  cloak,  and  a  linen  cap."  This 
accomplished,  the  two  ladies,  accompanied  by  O'Neill 
and  Niel  MacKechan,  repaired  to  the  prince's  hiding- 
place,  a  small  hut,  situated  near  the  sea-coast.  Charles, 
at  the  time  of  their  arrival,  was  busily  engaged  in  cook- 
ing his  dinner,  which  consisted  of  a  sheep's  heart,  which 
he  was  roasting  upon  a  wooden  spit.  The  meeting  was 
in  affecting  one  on  all  sides,  although  the  cheerfulness  of 
36* 


414  LOYALTY. 

the  prince  did  not  forsake  him.  He  invited  his  friends  to 
join  in. his  fare,  and  soon  inspired  them  with  his  own 
gayety,  depicting  the  still  brilliant  prospects  in  which 
his  fancy  indulged.  But  the  approaching  separation  of 
O'Neill  from  his  beloved  master  gave  to  him  at  least  a 
deep  gloom,  for  the  plan  of  Flora  was  to  convey  only 
Charles  himself  to  Skye,  and  involved  the  strongest 
necessity  for  caution.  Indeed,  while  yet  Lady  Clanran- 
ald  was  with  them,  she  received  intelligence  that  Gen- 
eral Campbell  had  retunaed  to  the  island,  and  that 
Captain  Fergusson, 'with  his  soldiers,  had  taken  posses- 
sion of  her  house.  Having  first  arrayed  the  prince, 
with  the  assistance  of  Flora,  in  his  novel  costume,  Lady 
Clanranald  took  her  leave  and  returned  home,  where 
she  was  received  with  such  a  multitude  of  questions, 
that  she  felt  convinced  of  the  suspicions  excited  against 
herself  and  family,  and  the  imperative  necessity  of  pru- 
dence, to  preserve  them  all  from  ruin.  Scarcely  had  she 
departed  from  the  prince,  when  four  armed  cutters  sailed 
along  the  coast,  close  to  the  hut  in  which  he  lay  con- 
cealed, so  that  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  hide  himself 
among  the  rocks,  and  delay  his  departure  till  the  next 
day,  when,  at  eight  in  the  evening,  he  left  the  island  in 
an  eight-oared  boat,  which  had  been  provided  by  Miss 
Macdonald.  He  was  accompanied  by  Flora  and  her 
faithful  Highland  attendant,  Niel  MacKechan,  and  the 
place  chosen  for  their  embarkation  was  Kilbride. 

About  a  mile  from  the  shore,  the  sea  became  rough, 
and  the  wind  freshened  into  a  gale ;  but  Charles  kept  up 
the  spirits  of  the  little  party  by  singing  Highland  airs,  till 
Flora  fell  fast  asleep,  when  he  showed  the  most  anxious 
care  lest  she  should  be  hurt  by  the  carelessness  of  the 
rowers,  as  she  lay  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  At  day 


LOYALTY.  415 

break,  the  black  mountains  of  Skye  rose  in  sight;  but 
on  approaching  the  coast  near  Weternish,  they  found 
the  place  occupied  by  three  boats-full  of  armed  men,  by 
whom  they  were  hailed  and  ordered  immediately  to 
come  on  shore.  Not  obeying  the  summons,  they  .im- 
mediately received  a  volley  of  musketry,  but  by  the 
exertions  of  their  rowers,  they  succeeded  in  escaping  this 
new  danger.*  While  the  bullets  were  falling  about 
the  boat,  Charles,  it  is  said,  requested  Miss  Macdonald 
to  lie  down  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  in  order  to  avoid 
them ;  but,  with  a  generosity  of  soul  which  stamps  her 
among  the  first  of  her  sex,  she  declined  the  proposal, 
and  declared  that,  as  she  was  endeavoring  to  preserve 
the  life  of  her  prince,  she  would  never  degrade  herself 
by  attending  to  the  safety  of  her  own  person  while 
that  of  her  master  was  in  jeopardy.  She  even  solic- 
ited Charles  to  occupy  the  place  he  had  assigned  for 
her.  The  prince,  as  the  danger  increased,  became 
more  urgent;  but  no  entreaties  could  prevail  upon 
Miss  Macdonald  to  abandon  her  intrepid  resolution, 
till  Charles  offered  to  lie  down  along  with  her.  Both 
accordingly  lay  down  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  till 
out  of  the  reach  of  the  bullets  of  the  militia.  After 
escaping  this  danger,  they  entered  a  small  creek,  and 
the  party,  after  taking  a  short  rest,  proceeded  to  Kil- 
bride,  and  landed  near  Mugstot,  the  seat  of  Sir  Alexan- 
der Macdonald,  near  the  northern  extremity  of  Skye.t 

Although  there  were  not  so  many  troops  in  Skye  as 
in  South  Uist,  there  was  a  detachment  of  cavalry;  the 
two  principal  chiefs,  Macdonald  and  MacLeod,  were 
partizans  of  the  government,  and  the  only  friend  on  whom 

*  Klose's  Memoirs  of  the  Young  Pretender. 
f  Browne's  History  of  the  Highland  Clans. 


416  LOYALTY. 

Charles  could  rely,  in  the  moment  of  his  greatest  need, 
was  the  young  girl  who  had  already  aided  his  escape, 
but  who  must  now  endeavor  to  assist  him  through  the 
intervention  of  others.  To  secure  the  prince's  safety, 
Flora  was  compelled,  in  this  instance,  to  apply  for  succor 
to  the  house  of  his  most  dangerous  enemy.  But  the 
heroic  maiden  had  made  herself  well  acquainted  with 
every  part  of  her  dangerous  enterprise.  She  knew  that 
Lady  Margaret,  the  wife  of  Sir  Alexander  Macdonald, 
was,  at  heart,  a  devoted  friend  of  the  house  of  Stuart, 
and  to  her  she  resolved  to  apply.  Leaving  Charles  and 
MacKechan  at  the  landing-place,  she  set  out  for  the 
abode  of  that  lady,  to  whom  she  had  written  a  few 
days  before,  announcing  her  intention  of  paying  her  a 
visit.  She  now  confessed,  without  reserve,  whom  she 
had  brought  to  the  island,  with  a  view  of  claiming  her 
protection.  Lady  Margaret,  as  may  be  supposed,  heard 
the  news  with  pain  and  surprise.  Her  husband,  in  a 
letter  written  not  long  after,  says  of  Flora,  that  on  this 
visit  she  "  put  Lady  Margaret  into  the  utmost  distress  by 
telling  her  of  the  cargo  that  she  had  brought  from  Uist."* 
But  that  lady  did  not  disappoint  the  confidence  Flora 
had  placed  in  her  generosity.  Her  house  was  full  of 
militia  officers,  and  she  could  not,  therefore,  with  com- 
mon prudence,  have  received  the  prince  within  its  walls. 
She  sent,  however,  Macdonald  of  Kingsburgh,  a  kinsman 
of  her  husband's,  to  carry  the  necessary  refreshments  to 
Charles,  but  kept  Flora  to  dine  with  her,  "when  she 
was  subjected  to  many  searching  questions  from  the 
English  officers,  which,  by  her  prudence,  she  answered 
without  creating  suspicion.  After  dinner,  Flora,  her 
servant,  Neil  MacKechan,  and  two  others,  to  whom 

*  CuHoden.  Paper*. 


LOYALTY.  417 

Charles  was  unknown,  returned  to  the  prince.  They 
found  him  with  Kingsburgh,  being  on  his  way  to  the 
house  of  the  latter :  it  appears  that  on  the  first  appear- 
ance of  Kingsbnrgh,  the  Pretender  accosted  him  by  say- 
ing that  his  life  was  now  in  his  hand,  which  he  might 
dispose  of;  that  he  was  in  the  utmost  distress,  having 
had  no  meal  or  sleep  for  two  days  and  two  nights,  sitting 
upon  a  rock,  beat  upon  by  the  rains,  and  when  they 
ceased,  eat  up  by  flies;  he  conjured  him  to  show  com- 
passion but  for  one  night,  and  he  should  be  gone.  This 
moving  speech  prevailed,  and  the  visible  distress,  for  he 
was  meagre,  ill-colored,  and  overrun  with  the  scab. 
So  they  went  to  Kingsburgh's  house."*  On  his  way 
thither,  Charles'  awkwardness  in  his  female  attire  had 
very  nearly  betrayed  him,  creating  much  amusement 
among  the  country  people  on  the  road,  and  causing  one 
of  the  servants,  not  in  the  secret,  to  observe,  that  he 
looked  just  like  a  man  in  woman's  clothes.  This  gave 
the  alarm  to  Flora,  and  caused  her  to  hasten  the  advance 
of  her  party,  while  she  left  Charles  and  Kingsburgh  to 
find  their  way  among  by-roads  to  the  house  of  their 
destination. 

Charles  was  some  time  later  than  the  ladies  in  arriving 
at  the  house  of  his  guide ;  he  was  wet  and  weary,  but 
his  spirits  revived  with  a  good  supper,  and  so  greatly  did 
he  enjoy  the  bed  to  which  he  was  conducted,  that  some 
trouble  was  found  necessary  to  arouse  him  next  day. 
He  was  compelled  to  quit  the  house  as  he  had  come  to 
it,  in  female  attire,  *vhich  inconvenient  costume  he  ex- 
changed at  some  distance  from  Kingsburgh's,  for  that  of 
a  native  of  the  Hebrides,  consisting  of  a  short  green  coat, 
short  breeches,  a  wig  and  a  bonnet. 

*  Letter  of  Sir  Alex.  Macdonald,  in  behalf  of  his  kinsman. 


418  LOYALTY. 

"  Old  Mrs.  Macdonald,  after  her  guest  had  left  the 
house,  took  the  sheets  in  which  he  had  lain,  folded  them 
carefully,  and  charged  her  daughter  that  they  should  be 
kept  unwashed,  and  that  when  she  died,  her  body  should 
be  wrapped  in  them  as  a  winding-sheet.  Her  will  was 
religiously  observed."* 

Under  the  conduct  of  a  trusty  guide,  Charles  arrived 
at  Portree,  fourteen  Scotch  miles  from  Mugstot,  whither 
Flora  Macdonald,  Kingsburgh,  and  MacKechan,  had 
already  repaired.  There  the  little  party  took  an  affec- 
tionate leave  of  that  beloved  prince,  who,  after  what  they 
had  ventured  for  his  sake,  had  become  doubly  dear  to 
them.  "  For  all  that  has  happened,"  said  Charles,  as 
he  bade  adieu  to  Flora,  "  I  hope,  madam,  we  shall  meet 
at  St.  James'."  It  was  not  his  destiny,  however,  to 
see  any  of  the  party  again:  "and  he  was  afterwards 
heard  to  express  the  greatest  regret  that  he  could  not 
have  a  Macdonald  with  him  to  the  last." 

The  further  adventures  of  the  royal  fugitive  have 
nothing  to  do  with  our  narrative;  they  are  amply 
chronicled  in  more  general  histories,  as  forming  a  link 
in  the  chain  of  disasters  which  connected  the  fate  of  the 
entire  house  of  Stuart :  suffice  it  here  to  say,  that,  aided 
hy  other  faithful  adherents,  to  whom  Flora  relinquished 
her  trust,  Charles  Edward  had  finally  the  good  fortune 
to  effect  his  escape  into  France  :  let  us  return  to  those 
who  had  shared  in  his  perils,  and  many  of  whom  suf- 
fered for  their  allegiance.  Of  the  numhei  were  Clan- 
ranald  and  his  lady,  who,  after  a  temporary  imprison- 
ment, were  released,  and  permitted  to  return  to  Scotland. 
The  gallant  O'Neill,  taken  only  a  few  days  after  ha 
quitted  the  side  of  Charles,  would  have  suffered  the 

*  Boswell. 


LOYALTY.  41& 

greatest  mdignities,  according  to  a  sentence  passed  on 
him,  but  for  the  timely  interference  of  a  lieutenant  of 
Scottish  Fusileers.  Kingsburgh,  a  severe  sufferer  foi 
his  loyalty,  was  thrown  into  prison  and  tried :  upon  his 
examination,  an  allusion  being  made  to  the  opportunity 
he  had  lost  of  making  his  own  fortune  and  that  of  his 
family  forever,  by  securing  the  price  of  50,OOOZ.  put  on 
the  capture  of  Prince  Charles,  he  nobly  replied,  "  Had  I 
gold  and  silver  piled  heaps  upon  heaps,  to  the  bulk  of 
yon  huge  mountain,  that  mass  could  not  afford  me  half 
the  satisfaction  I  find  in  my  own  breast  from  doing  what 
I  have  done."  He  survived  his  liberation,  which  he 
obtained  in  1747,  as  many  as  twenty-five  years.  The 
faithful  Niel  MacKechan,  who  parted  from  the  prince 
at  the  same  time  as  his  mistress,  escaped  afterwards  to 
France,  where  he  rejoined  the  prince. 

To  conclude  with  her  whose  name  has  been  immor- 
talized by  her  loyalty ;  Flora  Macdonald,  after  leaving 
the  prince  with  his  friends  at  Portree,  returned  immedi- 
ately and  in  safety  to  Armadale.  She  had  not  been 
above  eight  or  nine  days  there,  when  she  was  required 
to  attend  one  Macdonald,  whom  MacLeod  of  Paliscar 
had  employed  to  examine  her.  She  set  out  in  obedience 
to  the  summons,  but  had  not  gone  far  when  she  was 
seized  by  an  officer  and  a  party  of  soldiers,  who  carried 
her  immediately  on  board  the  Furnace,  Captain  Furguson. 
General  Campbell  was  on  board,  and  commanded  that 
the  young  lady  should  be  used  with  the  utmost  civility  ; 
that  she  should  be  allowed  a  maid-servant,  and  every 
accommodation  the  ship  could  afford.  Such  was  the 
respect  which  the  conduct  of  this  young  woman  command* 
ed  even  from  her.  enemies  !  Finding  that  the  boatmen 
she  had  employed  for  the  prince's  escape  had  told  every- 


LOYALTY. 

thing,  Flora  acknowledged  the  whole  truth  to  Ger.eral 
Campbell.  Three  weeks  after,  the  ship  typing  near  her 
mother's,  she  was  permitted  to  go  on  shore  with  a  guard 
to  take  leave  of  her  friends :  she  obtained  another  pro- 
tector in  Admiral  Smith,  whose  ship  soon  after  came  into 
Leith  Road.  Thence  removed  from  place  to  place  till 
November  28th,  1746,  she  was  put  on  board  the  Royal 
Sovereign,  lying  at  the  Nore.  After  five  months'  impris- 
onment on  ship-board,  she  was  transported  to  London, 
where  she  was  confined  in  a  messenger's  house  till  July, 
1747,  and  then  discharged,  without  being  asked  a 
question."*1  Flora  is  said  to  have  been  indebted  to  the 
intercession  of  Frederick  Prince  of  Wales  for  her  release. 
She  was  under  the  protection  of  Lady  Primrose  for  a 
short  time  in  London,  who  provided  a  post-chaise  to 
convey  her  back  to  Scotland,  an>J  desired  her  to  cheose 
any  friend  whom  she  pleased  to  accompany  her  thither. 
On  which  she  selected  the  gallant  Malcolm  MacLeod,  her 
successor  as  guide  to  the  prince,  and  who  had  materially 
aided  in  his  escape.  He  too  had  been  apprehended,  but 
sufficient  evidence  could  not  be  procured  against  him. 
"  So,"  said  he,  with  a  triumphant  air,  "  I  went  to  London 
to  be  hanged,  and  returned  in  a  post-chaise  with  Miss 
Flora  Macdonald."t 

While  in  London,  a  collection  had  been  made  for 
Flora  by  some  Jacobite  ladies,  amounting  to  nearly  1,500Z. 
She  subsequently  became  the  wife  of  the  son  of  Kings- 
burgh,  and  went  with  him  to  America.  During  the  civil 
war  there,  they  returned  to  Scotland  together,  and  both 
died  in  their  native  Isle  of  Skye.  The  decease  of  Flora 
took  place  March  4th,  1790.  She  was  then  in  her  seven- 
tieth year.J 

*  Her  imprisonment  lasted  twelve  months  altogether. 
|-  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson.  |  Klose's  Memoirs. 


LOYALTY.  421 

At  the  time  of  Dr.  Johnson's  visit  to  the  Isle  of  Skye, 
our  heroine  was  residing-  at  Kingsburgh  with  her  husband, 
and  he  paid  them  a  visit :  he  was  accompanied  by  Mr. 
Boswell  on  this  occasion.  The  latter  describes  Kings- 
burgh*  as  "  the  complete  figure  of  a  gallant  Highlander," 
and  enlarges  on  the  hospitality  of  their  reception.  He 
says,  "By  and  by,  supper  was  served,  at  which  there 
appeared  the  lady  of  the  house,  the  celebrated  Miss  Flora 
Macdonald ;  she  is  a  little  woman,  of  a  genteel  appear- 
ance, and  uncommonly  mild  and  well  bred."  Dr.  John- 
son himself  describes  her,  in  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Thrale,  thus  : 
"  She  must  then  have  been  a  very  young  lady ;  she  is 
now  not  old  ;  of  a  pleasing  person,  and  elegant  behavior, 
n  the  national  ballads  of  her  country,  she  is  described  as 
the  "  beautiful  Flora."  She  became  the  mother  of  five 
sons,  who  all  held  commissions  under  the  reigning 
sovereigns,  and  of  two  daughters,  one  of  whom  lived 
to  a  great  age,  inheriting  her  mother's  features  and 
principles.! 


LOYALTY  REWARDED. 

"  My  king  from  me  what  adamant  can  part, 
Whom  I  do  wear  engraveii  on  my  heart  ?  " 

Old  Battad. 

"  THE  Emperor  Joseph  the  Second,  travelling  towards 
Ostend,  for  the  purpose  of  presiding  at  the  ceremony  of 
declaring  it  a  free  port,  was  attracted  by  the  appearance 
of  a  poor  woman  at  the  door  of  a  cottage,  who  seemed  to 
discover  in  her  countenance  much  dejection  and  disap- 
pointment. The  emperor,  who,  as  usual,  was  in  advance 
of  his  train,  dismounted  to  hear  the  poor  woman's  story. 

*  In  his  Life  of  Johnson.  f  Tales  of  Female  Heroism. 

36 


422  .LOYALTY. 

She,  unconscious  of  the  dignity  of  the  person  she  ad- 
dressed, stated  that  she  had  been  earnestly  entreating  her 
husband  for  permission  to  accompany  him  to  Ostend,  to 
which  place  he  had  just  gone,  in  order  to  see  the  em- 
peror •  but  that  all  her  supplications  had  been  unavail- 
ing. She  urged  the  peculiar  unkindness  of  this  refusal 
in  the  strongest  terms  ;  observing  that  her  husband 
was  but  an  alien,  and  could  not  be  supposed  to  love  his 
royal  master  with  the  same  spirit  of  ardent  loyalty 
which  glowed  in  her  bosom,  as  she  was  descended  from 
a  family  which  had,  through  successive  generations, 
resided  five  hundred  years  in  the  same  neighborhood, 
and  had  always  been  particularly  distinguished  for  its 
attachment  to  their  sovereign.  She  concluded  with 
asserting  how  largely  she  inherited  the  family  loyalty, 
and  that  she  would  cheerfully  undergo  the  severest  hard- 
ships, and  think  herself  amply  requited,  if  she  could  but 
obtain  a  sight  of  her  sovereign. 

"  The  emperor  was  so  much  struck  with  the  zeal  of 
the  poor  cottager,  that  he  immediately  took  a  snuff- 
box from  his  pocket,  most  splendidly  decorated  with 
diamonds,  which  surrounded  a  picture  of  himself,  and 
gave  it  to  her,  saying,  that  if  the  brutality  of  her  husband 
had  prevented  her  from  seeing  the  original,  her  loyalty 
and  feeling  deserved  at  least  to  be  rewarded  by  a  portrait 
of  the  sovereign  she  so  much  revered.  The  likeness  of 
the  picture  was  so  exact,  that  the  woman  immediately 
perceived  to  whom  she  had  been  so  freely  communicating 
her  sentiments,  and  fell  on  her  knees,  with  every  token 
of  love  and  veneration.  The  emperor  only  remained  to 
inquire  the  name  of  her  husband,  and  where  he  was 
most  likely  to  be  found  in  Ostend :  this  done,  he  departed. 


LOYALTY.  42Jj 

A  messet.ger  was  instantly  sent  forward,  with  the  direc 
tions  for  finding  the  man,  and  committing  him  to  prison. 
"  The  poor  fellow  inquired  the  cause  of  his  arrest,  but 
could  obtain  no  answer:  he  was,  however,  most  sumptu- 
ously entertained  for  three  days  in  prison,  and  then  set 
at  liberty,  just  in  time  to  learn  that  the  emperor  had  left 
Ostend,  and  that  the  only  chance  he  had  of  obtaining  a 
sight  of  his  imperial  Majesty  was  by  following  him  to 
Vienna.  When  he  returned  home,  the  story  of  the  snuff- 
box revealed  the  mystery  of  his  imprisonment,  and 
consoled  him  for  the  loss  of  that  sight  which  his  wife 
had  so  advantageously  enjoyed." 


ELOQUENCE. 


HERSILIA. CORNELIA   HORTENSIA. ALDRUDE. ISABEL  OF  AR- 

UNDEL. QUEENELIZABETH. DISPUTE  CONCERNING  ELOQUENCE 


»'  Here  sweet  eloquence  does  always  smile, 
In  such  a  choice,  yet  unaffected  style, 
As  must  both  knowledge  and  delight  impart, 
The  force  of  reason,  with  the  flowers  of  art." 

BUCKINGHAMSHIRE. 

ELOQUENCE  may  sometimes  effect  its  object  by  means 
of  splendid  images  and  sublime  expressions,  but  that 
alone  which  springs  from  the  heart  takes  the  certain  road 
to  success.  The  flattering  results  which  have  on  so 
many  occasions  attended  the  exercise  of  this  brilliant 
talent  by  the  female  sex,  must  be  rather  attributed  to  the 
energetic  zeal  with  which,  from  their  goodness  of  heart, 
they  have  entered  into  the  lists  in  defence  of  virtue,  than 
to  any  studied  use  of  language,  as  was  the  custom  with 
the  public  speakers  of  their  times.  The  consciousness 
of  being  engaged  in  a  virtuous  cause  has  often  given 
rise  to  the  most  enthusiastic  and  splendid  eloquence  on 
the  part  of  women,  who,  weak  and  helpless  by  nature, 
have  thus  become  endued  with  strength,  not  only  to 
urge,  but  to  accomplish,  the  most  arduous  enterprises. 
There  is  no  doubt  that 

"  If  the  mind  with  clear  conception  glow, 
The  willing  words  in  just  expressions  flow;" 

and  warmth  of  feeling  in  women  has  amply  compen- 
sated for  any  inferiority,  if  such  there  were,  in  their 
talents,  to  those  of  the  opposite  sex.  We  ought  to  s*»t 


ELOQUENCE.  425 

much  weight  on  these  superior  instances  of  mental 
capacity,  and  endeavor  not  to  degenerate  from  such 
worthy  examples  :  such  patterns  of  merit  should  not  be 
thrown  away  upon  us,  for  they  teach  us,  that  if  the  too 
free  use  of  speech  is  attributed  as  a  failing  to  our  sex, 
the  proper  use  of  that  speech  may  be  rendered  not  only 
a  private,  but  a  public  benefit ;  as  there  is  a  time  to  be 
silent,  so  it  does  sometimes  happen  that  there  is  a  time 
when  it  becomes  a  duty  to  speak ;  and  eloquence,  actuated 
by  sincere  and  virtuous  motives,  must  ever  claim  univer- 
sal respect  and  admiration. 

SUCCESSFUL  EMBASSY  OF  HERSILIA. 

"  "We  have  nothing  else  to  ask,  but  that 
Which  you  deny  already  ;  yet  will  ask, 
That  if  we  fail  in  our  request,  the  blame 
May  hang  upon  your  hardness." — SHAKSPEAEK. 

"  AFTER  the  rape  of  the  Sabine  women,  who  were 
carried  off  by  the  Romans  to  people  their  new-founded 
colony,  Hersilia,  the  wife  of  Romulus,  having  demanded 
an  audience  of  the  national  council,  laid  before  them  a 
project,  formed  by  hlrself  and  her  companions,  of  acting 
the  part  of  mediators  between  their  husbands  and  fathers. 
This  offer,  having  been  deliberated  upon,  and  accepted, 
the  women  were  permitted  to  depart,  on  condition  that 
each  mother,  as  a  pledge  of  her  return,  should  leave,  as 
a  hostage,  one  of  her  children ;  the  others  were  to  be 
carried  with  them,  for  the  purpose  of  conciliating  the 
Sabines. 

"  Having   laid   aside   their  ornaments   and    put  on 

mourning,  the  women,  with  their  children  in  their  arms, 

repaired  to  the  camp  of  their  countrymen,  and  threw 

themselves  at  the  feet  of  their  fathers  and  brothers; 

36* 


426  ELOQUENCE. 

when  Hersilia,  in  the  name  of  her  companions,  addressed 
the  assembled  chiefs  in  the  following  eloquent  and 
pathetic  harangue  :  — 

"  '  What  great  injury  have  we  done  you,  that  we  have 
suffered,  and  still  do  suffer,  so  many  miseries?  We 
were  carried  off  by  those  who  now  have  us,  violently 
and  illegally :  after  this  violence,  we  were  so  long  neg- 
lected by  our  brothers,  our  fathers,  and  our  relations,  that 
we  were  necessitated  to  unite  in  the  strongest  ties  with 
those  who  were  the  objects  of  our  hatred ;  and  we  are 
now  brought  to  tremble  for  the  men  that  had  injured  us 
so  much,  when  we  see  them  in  danger,  and  to  lament 
them  when  they  fall :  for  you  came  not  to  deliver  us 
from  violence  while  virgins,  or  to  avenge  our  cause ;  but 
now  you  tear  the  wives  from  their  husbands,  and  the 
mothers  from  their  children  ;  an  assistance  more  grievous 
to  us  than  your  neglect  and  disregard.  Such  love  we 
experienced  from  them,  and  such  compassion  from  you. 
Were  the  war  undertaken  in  some  other  cause,  yet  surely 
you  would  stop  its  ravages  for  us,  who  have  made  you 
fathers-in-law  and  grandfathers,  or  ptherwise  placed  you 
in  'some  near  affinity  to  those  whom  you  seek  to  destroy: 
but  if  the  war  be  for  us,  take  us,  with  your  sons-in-law 
and  their  children,  and  restore  us  to  our  parents  and 
kindred,  lest  we  become  captives  again  ! ' 

"  The  tears  and  remonstrances  of  Hersilia,  added  to 
the  supplications  of  her  companions,  were  rewarded  by 
their  countrymen  consenting  to  an  interview  with  the 
Romans,  in  which  all  differences  were  accommodated, 
and  articles  of  peace  and  alliance  drawn  up  between  the 
two  nations.  The  duties  of  the  women  thus  reconciled, 
many  honorable  privileges  and  marks  of  distinction  were 
conferred  upon  them  by  unanimous  consent,  as  testimo- 


ELOQUENCE. 


nies  of  esteem  for  their  conjugal  and  filial  piety.  A 
festival  was  also  instituted  to  their  honor,  called  Matron- 
alia,  in  which  the  Roman  matrons  received  presents  from 
their  husbands." 


CORNELIA,  "MOTHER  OF  THE   GRACCHI." 
"  Slow  in  speech,  yet  sweet  as  spring-time  flowers." 

SUAKSPEAKE. 

QUTNCTILIAN  informs  us  that  the  Gracchi  were  indebted 
for  much  of  their  eloquence  to  the  care  and  institutions 
of  their  mother,  Cornelia,  daughter  of  the  great  Scipio, 
whose  taste  and  learning  were  fully  displayed  in  her  let- 
ters, which  were  then  in  the  hands  of  the  public :  and 
Cicero,  the  greatest  orator  Rome  ever  produced,  says, 
"  We  have  read  the  letters  of  Cornelia,  the  mother  of 
the  Gracchi,  from  which  it  appears  that  the  sons  were 
educated,  not  so  much  in  the  lap  of  the  mother,  as  her 
conversation." 

"  Cornelia's  extraction  was  the  noblest  in  Rome,  and 
her  family  the  richest ;  yet  it  was  not  either  her  birth  or 
fortune  which  rendered  her  memory  immortal,  but  the 
virtuous  example  which  she  gave,  in  her  own  conduct,  to 
her  countrywomen  and  posterity.  The  following  inter- 
esting anecdote  is  recorded  of  Cornelia,  and  although 
foreign  to  the  present  subject,  well  deserves  our  attention. 
A  lady  of  Campania,  coming  to  make  her  a  visit,  and 
lodging  in  her  house,  displayed  with  pomp  whatever  was 
then  most  fashionable  and  valuable  for  the  toilet,  gold 
and  silver,  jewels,  diamonds,  bracelets,  pendants,  and  all 
the  apparatus  which  the  ancients  called  mundum  mulie- 
Irem,  (woman's  world.)  She  expected  to  find  somewhat 
still  finer,  in  the  house  of  a  person  of  her  quality,  and 


428  ELOQUENCE. 

desired  very  importunately  to  see  her  toilet.  Cornelia 
artfully  prolonged  the  conversation  till  such  time  as  her 
children  came  home,  who  were  then  gone  to  the  public 
schools,  and  pointing  to  them  as  they  entered,  '  See  here,' 
says  she,  '  are  my  jewels.'  Et  hoc,  inguit,  ornamenta 
mea  sunt." 

"  We  need  only,"  observes  M.  de  Rollin,  "  examine 
our  own  thoughts,  in  relation  to  those  two  ladies,  to  find 
out  how  far  superior  the  noble  simplicity  of  the  one  was 
to  the  vain  magnificence  of  the  other :  and,  indeed,  what 
merit  or  ability  is  there  in  buying  up  a  large  collection  of 
precious  stones  and  jewels,  in  being  vain  of  them,  or  in 
not  knowing  how  to  talk  of  anything  else  ?  And  on  the 
other  hand,  how  truly  worthy  is  it,  in  a  person  of  the 
first  quality,  to  be  above  such  trifles,  to  place  her  honor 
and  glory  in  the  good  education  of  her  children,  in  sparing 
no  expense  towards  the  bringing  it  about,  and  in  showing 
that  nobleness  and  greatness  of  soul  do  equally  belong  to 
both  sexes!" 


HORTENSIA'S  ADDRESS  TO  THE   TRIUMVIRS. 

"  Why  will  you  thus  employ  your  eloquence, 
Which  our  whole  council  would  with  liking  hear, 
To  help  impossibilities  ?  " 

"HoRTENSiA,  a  celebrated  Roman  lady,  exemplified 
the  power  of  eloquence  over  the  human  mind.  Her 
father,  Hortensius,  was  the  most  celebrated  orator  of  his 
time,  and  his  talents  were  inherited  by  his  daughter. 
The  triumvirs  had  obliged  4,000  women  to  give  upon  oath 
an  account  of  their  possessions,  to  defray  the  expenses 
ot  the  state ;  and  the  Roman  ladies,  in  this  emergency, 
had  recourse  to  Hortensia,  who  undertook  to  plead 


ELOQUENCE.  429 

their  cause,  and  accompanied  them  to  the  tribunal  of  the 
triumvirs,  where  she  made  a  speech  in  their  name  to  the 
following  effect:  — 

"  '  My  lords,  these  unhappy  ladies  whom  you  see 
here,  imploring  your  justice  and  bounty,  would  never 
have  presumed  to  appear  in  this  place,  had  they  not  first 
made  TJ.  c  of  all  possible  means  which  either  their  native 
modesty  might  allow  or  their  best  understanding  could 
inform  them  of.  Though  our  appearing  here  may  seem 
contrary  to  the  rules  of  decency  prescribed  to  our  sex, 
which  we  have  hitherto  most  strictly  observed,  yet  the 
loss  of  our  fathers,  our  children,  our  brothers,  and  our 
husbands,  is  sufficient  to  excuse  us ;  nay,  and  to  vindi- 
cate us  too,  when  their  unhappy  deaths  are  made  a  pre- 
tence for  our  further  misfortunes.  You  pretend  that  you 
have  been  affronted,  but  what  have  the  women  done  that 
they  must  be  impoverished  ?  If  they  are  as  blamable 
as  the  men,  why  do  you  not  proscribe  them  too  ?  Cer- 
tainly none  of  our  sex  have  ever  declared  you  your 
country's  enemies :  we  have  neither  plundered  your 
goods,  nor  suborned  your  soldiers;  we  have  raised  no 
troops  against  you,  nor  opposed  those  honors  and  offices 
to  which  you  pretend.  We  presume  not  to  govern  the 
republic,  nor  is  it  our  ambition  which  has  drawn  the 
present  miseries  and  misfortunes  on  your  heads ;  empire, 
dignities  and  honors,  were  never  designed  for  our  sex. 
We,  alas  !  have  done  nothing  to  affront  you,  nothing  to 
offend  you,  nor  anything  to  move  you  to  this  severe 
treatment  of  us.  But  you  tell  us,  you  have  a  war  to 
support ;  and  when  have  mankind  been  free  from  war  ? 
and  yet,  have  women  ever  been  taxed  on  that  account  ? 
The  universal  consent  of  nations  has  confirmed  an  excep- 
tion in  their  favor,  which  nature  herself  hns  granted  us. 


430  ELOQUENCE. 

Formerly,  indeed,  the  Roman  women,  in  the  extreme 
exigency  of  the  republic,  when  in  danger  of  becoming 
a  prey  to  the  Carthaginians,  contributed  towards  the 
expenses  of  the  state ;  but  they  did  it  voluntarily ;  that 
which  they  gave  was  not  levied  upon  their  estates, 
dowries,  and  houses,  —  they  only  appropriated  it  to  the 
ornaments  of  their  persons;  nor  were  they  subject  to 
any  estimation,  or  informations  of  accusers.  What  is, 
then,  the  danger  which  you  apprehend  at  present  ?  Do 
the  Gauls  or  Parthians  invade  Italy  ?  In  that  case,  you 
will  find  us  no  less  generous  than  our  mothers ;  but 
think  not  we  will  contribute  our  estates  to  maintain  civil 
wars,  and  enable  you  to  destroy  one  another.  Such  a 
demand  was  never  made  either  by  Caesar  or  Pompey  in 
their  wars;  nor  by  Marius  and  Cinna  during  their 
cruelties;  no,  not  by  Sylla  himself,  who  first  set  up 
tyranny  in  Rome  :  yet,  after  all,  you  adorn  yourselves 
with  the  glorious  title  of  reformers  of  the  state.' 

"  This  discourse  appeared  so  bold  and  dangerous  to 
the  triumvirs,  that  they  immediately  sent  their  lictors  to 
cause  the  ladies  to  retire ;  but  perceiving  that  the  multi- 
tude began  to  cry  out  against  such  violence,  they  promised 
to  reconsider  the  affair,  and  afterwards  drew  up  another 
list  of  400  women,  instead  of  4,000 ;  but  to  make  good 
the  sum  they  wanted,  they  taxed  all  the  citizens  and 
foreigners,  without  distinction,  who  were  worth  one 
hundred  thousand  drachmas,  or  upwards  of  3,200  pounds 
sterling." 

A  modern  writer*  has  observed  that  the  above  speech 
of  Hortensia,  which  has  been  preserved  to  us  by  Appian, 
*'  for  elegance  of  language  and  justness  of  thought,  would 
have  done  honor  to  a  Cicero  or  a  Demosthenes," 

*  Alexander,  in  his  History  of  "Women. 


ELOQUENCE.  431 

SPEECH  OF  THE   COUNTESS  OF  BERTINORO. 

"  I  profess  not  talking ;  only  this, 
Let  each  man  do  his  best. 

In  such  business, 
Action  is  eloquence."  —  SHAKSPEARE. 

"  IN  the  year  1172,  the  city  of  Ancdna,  situated  on  the 
Adriatic  Sea,  and  on  that  account  a  place  of  great 
importance,  the  possession  of  it  affording  an  entrance 
into  Italy,  was  besieged  by  the  Venetians,  under  the 
command  of  the  Archbishop  of  Mayence. 

"  After  a  very  brave  defence,  the  distressed  inhabitants 
were  reduced  to  such  an  extremity  by  famine,  that  they 
sent  deputies  to  the  archbishop,  offering  him  an  immense 
sum  of  money  to  raise  the  siege ;  but  he  refused  them 
with  insult,  saying,  '  It  would  be  folly  to  accept  a  part, 
when  the  whole  was  in  his  power.'  The  deputies  made 
him  a  spirited  reply,  but  returned  disheartened  to  the 
city.  In  the  consultations  which  followed,  some  were 
for  submitting  unconditionally,  as  was  demanded,  and 
others  preferred  dying  sword  in  hand.  An  old  man,  who 
had  lived  more  than  a  century,  reanimated  their  courage, 
by  proposing  the  employment  of  their  treasures  in  pro- 
curing succors  from  the  neighboring  princes ;  and  then, 
if  their  applications  proved  fruitless,  he  advised  them  to 
throw  their  riches  into  the  sea,  and  sell  their  lives  as 
dear  as  possible. 

"  Deputies  were  accordingly  sent,  by  some  stratagem 
through  the  Venetian  fleet,  to  William  degli  Adelardi, 
of  Ferrara,  and  the  Countess  of  Bertinoro,  who  engaged 
m  the  cause  with  all  that  zeal  and  alacrity  which  animate 
generous  minds  to  aid  the  distressed. 

"  The  archbishop,  alarmed  at  the  succors  he  heard 
were  preparing  for  the  besieged,  caused  letters,  as  from 


432 

their  deputies,  to  be  thrown  into  the  city,  saying  tha» 
their  negotiations  had  been  unsuccessful,  and  that  they 
must  expect  no  help.  Some  of  the  most  enlightened  of 
the  inhabitants  detected  the  forgery,  and  calmed  the 
anxious  minds  of  the  affrighted  populace,  by  solemnly 
assuring  them  they  were  false.  In  the  mean  time, 
through  many  difficulties  and  interruptions,  the  troops 
of  the  Countess  Aldrude  and  William  Adelardi  advanced, 
preceded  by  a  standard  of  cloth  of  gold.  They  were 
composed  of  twelve  squadrons,  each  consisting  of  two 
hundred  choice  men,  and  an  innumerable  multitude  of 
regular  and  light  infantry.  They  encamped  upon  a 
hill,  not  far  from  the  archbishop;  and  when  it  was 
night,  Adelardi  ordered  his  men  to  place  two  or  more 
lighted  candles  upon  the  tops  of  their  pikes  and  lances. 
Alarmed,  by  this  means,  with  the  idea  that  their  number 
was  immense,  the  archbishop  drew  back  a  little  from  the 
city,  to  secure  a  height  that  nature  had  rendered  very 
strong. 

"  William  harangued  his  army,  who  heard  him  with 
loud  applause ;  and,  at  the  close  of  his  speech,  Aldrude 
also  came  forward,  and  addressed  the  assembled  soldiers 
in  the  following  manner  :  — 

" '  Encouraged  and  fortified  by  the  favor  and  mercy 
of  Heaven,  I  have  resolved,  contrary  to  the  general  usage 
of  women,  to  speak  to  you  here,  because  I  hope  to  say 
something  that  may  be  useful,  though  unadorned  with 
the  figures  of  eloquence,  and  the  reasonings  of  philosophy. 
It  often  happens,  that  a  simple  discourse  acts  upon  the 
mind,  while  one  more  labored  merely  pleases  the  ear. 
it  is  neither  a  love  of  power,  nor  worldly  advantage, 
which  has  led  me  here.  Since  the  death  of  my  husband 
[  have  reigned  with  an  aching  heart  over  all  his  domains 


ELOQUENCE.  433 

without  any  contest.  It  is  enough  for  me  to  keep  what 
I  possess.  What  animates  me  is  the  miserable  situation 
of  Ancona,  the  tears  of  its  ladies,  who  fear  to  fall  into 
the  power  of  the  besiegers.  Need  I  enter  into  the  detail? 
It  is  to  succor  men,  worn  by  famine,  fatigued  by  frequent 
combats,  exposed  constantly  to  new  toils,  to  new  dangers, 
that  I  come,  with  my  only  son,  who,  though  a  child, 
inherits  his  father's  greatness  of  soul,  and  shows  the  same 
courage  and  the  same  zeal  for  the  protection  and  defence 
of  his  friends.  And  you,  warriors  of  Lombardy  and 
Romagna,  who  are  no  less  distinguished  for  your  fidelity 
than  your  valor,  the  same  cause  brings  you  here.  You 
obey  the  orders,  and  imitate  the  example,  of  William 
Adelardi,  who,  listening  only  to""his  natural  generosity 
and  love  of  freedom,  has  hazarded  his  own  fortune,  an<v 
that  of  his  friends  and  vassals,  for  the  deliverance  of 
Ancona.  I  know  not  how  to  praise  him  as  I  ought, 
because  language  is  not  equal  to  the  expression  of  our 
thoughts  and  wishes !  We  become  truly  virtuous  only 
when  we  prize  virtue  more  than  wealth  and  honor ! 
This  glorious  enterprise  has  as  yet  succeeded,  since  you 
have  passed  through  countries  occupied  by  your  enemies. 
But  it  is  now  time  that  the  seed  should  produce  fruit. 
It  is  time  to  make  a  trial  of  your  strength,  since  you  have 
occasion  to  make  a  trial  of  your  courage.  Hence,  then, 
without  delay,  which  enfeebles  the  minds  of  most  men. 
Be  under  arms  at  the  first  break  of  day,  so  that  the 
rising  sun  may  beam  upon  the  victory  which  the  Most 
High  promises  to  your  charity !  May  my  prayers  draw 
down  a  blessing  upon  you ;  and  may  the  sight  of  those 
beautiful  ladies  who  accompany  me  animate  you !  If 
knights  are  accustomed  to  display  their  skill  and  strength 
m  cruel  combuts,  for  pleasure  only ;  if  they  expose  their 
37 


434 


ELOQUENCE. 


lives  in  honor  of  scarce-remembered  beauty ;  how  much 
more  ought  you  to  make  efforts  for  the  victory  !  You, 
who,  by  the  motive  of  your  enterprise  alone,  augment 
the  glory  of  your  name,  and  acquire  the  esteem  of  the 
world  !  Let  not  your  hands,  then,  spare  the  rebels  ! 
Be  your  swords  bathed  in  the  blood  of  those  who  resist ! 
Indulgence  is  not  for  those  who,  whilst  they  can  do  evil, 
will  not  pardon.' 

"  The  troops  were  greatly  animated  by  this  eloquent 
appeal  to  their  feelings,  and  they  felt  prepared  for  vic- 
tory. No  battle,  however,  was  fought.  The  arch- 
bishop fled  during  the  night,  and  all  the  citizens  came 
to  render  thanks  to  Aldrude  and  Adelardi,  and  to  offer 
them  the  most  magnificent  presents. 

"  The  countess  returned,  with  her  guards,  to  her 
domains,  meeting  many  detachments  of  the  enemy  upon 
the  road,  with  whom  they  had  skirmishes  ;  but  her  party 
always  came  off  victorious." 

BOLD  REPROOF  OF  THE   COUNTESS  OF  ARUNDEL. 

"  Well,  my  ambassadress,  — 
Come  you  to  menace  war  and  loud  defiance  ? 
Or  does  the  peaceful  olive  grace  your  brow  ?  "  —  Rows. 

"  ISABEL,  widow  of  Hugh,  Earl  of  Arundel,  having 
unsuccessfully  applied  to  King  Henry  the  Third  for  the 
wardship  of  a  certain  person,  challenging  it  as  her  right, 
ooldly  told  him  '  that  he  was  constituted  by  God  Almighty 
to  govern  his  people,  but  that  he  neither  governed  him- 
self nor  his  subjects  as  he  ought  to  do  ; '  adding,  « that 
he  wronged  the  church  and  oppressed  the  nobles.'  To 
which  the  king  answered,  '  Have  the  peers  framed  a 
charter,  and  appointed  you  their  advocate  to  speak  for 
them,  by  reason  of  your  eloquence  ?  '  '  No,'  said  this 


ELOQUENCE.  435 

spirited  woman,  •  but  you  have  violated  that  charter  of 
liberties  which  your  father  did  grant,  and  which  you 
obliged  yourself  by  oath  to  perform;  thus,  you  are  a 
notorious  infringer  of  your  faith  and  oath.  What  is 
become  of  those  liberties  of  England,  so  solemnly 
recorded,  so  often  confirmed,  and  so  dearly  purchased  ? 
1,  though  a  woman,  with  all  the  freeborn  people  of  this 
realm,  do  appeal  to  the  tribunal  of  God  against  you. 
Heaven  and  earth  shall  bear  witness  how  injuriously 
you  have  dealt  with  us,  and  the  Avenger  of  perjury  will 
protect  the  justice  of  our  cause.'  As  the  king  was  con- 
scious of  the  breach  of  his  promise,  he  beheld  with  admi- 
ration the  undaunted  conduct  of  the  countess;  and,  being 
checked  by  her  stately  demeanor  and  severe  reproof,  said, 
'  Do  you  desire  my  favor,  kinswoman  ? '  To  which  she 
replied,  '  Since  you  have  denied  me  that  which  is  right, 
what  reason  have  I  to  hope  for  your  favor  ?  I  do,  in  the 
presence  of  Christ,  appeal  against  those  who  have,  by 
evil  counsels,  misled  you  from  justice  and  truth,  for  theii 
private  ends.' " 

SPIRITED  ADDRESS  OF  QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 

"  The  spark  of  noble  courage  now  awake, 
And  strive  your  excellent  self  to  excel !  "  —  Fairy  Queen. 

"  QUEEN  ELIZABETH,  who  excelled  in  every  feminine 
grace  and  accomplishment,  proved,  on  many  occasions, 
that  she  was  not  deficient  in  the  art  of  eloquence.  When 
England  was  threatened  with  invasion  by  the  Invincible 
Armada  of  Spain,  and  a  camp  was  formed  at  Tilbury 
of  23,000  men,  to  protect  the  capital,  on  this  memorable 
and  momentous  occasion,  Queen  Elizabeth  resolved  to 
visit  in  person  the  cafhp,  for  the  purpose  of  encouraging 
the  soldiers.  Like  a  second  Boadicea,  armed  for  defence 


436  ELOQUENCE. 

against  tho  invader  of  her  country,  she  appeared  at  once 
the  warrior  and  queen.  Mounted  on  a  general's  charger, 
with  a  general's  truncheon  in  her  hand,  a  corslet  of 
polished  steel  laced  on  over  her  magnificent  apparel,  a-nd 
a  page  in  attendance  bearing  her  white-plumed  helmet, 
she  rode,  bare-headed,  from  rank  to  rank,  with  a  coura- 
geous deportment  and  smiling  countenance ;  and,  amid 
the  affectionate  plaudits  and  shouts  of  military  ardor 
which  burst  from  the  animated  and  admiring  soldiery, 
she  addressed  them  in  the  following  short  but  spirited 
harangue  :  — 

"  '  My  loving  people !  I  have  been  persuaded  by  some 
that  are  careful  of  my  safety  to  take  heed  how  I  com- 
mitted myself  to  armed  multitudes,  for  fear  of  treachery. 
But  I  tell  you  that  I  would  not  desire  to  live  to  distrust 
my  faithful  and  loving  people.  Let  tyrants  fear ;  I  have 
so  behaved  myself  that,  under  God,  I  have  placed  my 
chiefest  strength  and  safeguard  in  the  loyal  hearts  and 
good-will  of  my  subjects.  Wherefore,  I  am  come  among 
you  at  this  time  but  for  my  recreation  and  pleasure, 
being  resolved,  in  the  midst  and  neart  of  the  battle,  to 
live  and  die  among  you  all;  to  lay  down,  for  my  God, 
and  for  my  kingdom,  and  for  my  people,  mine  honor 
and  my  blood,  even  in  the  dust.  I  know  I  have  the 
body  but  of  a  weak  and  feeble  woman,  but  I  have  the 
heart  and  stomach  of  a  king,  and  of  a  king  of  England 
too ;  and  take  soul  scorn  that  Parma,  or  any  prince  of 
Europe,  should  dare  to  invade  the  borders  of  my  realm. 
To  the  which,  rather  than  any  dishonor  shall  grow  by 
me,  I  myself  will  be  your  general,  judge,  -and  rewarder 
of  your  virtue  in  the  field.  I  kno^  that  already  for  your 
forwardness  you  have  deserved  rewards  and  crowns ; 
and  I  assure  you,  on  the  word  of  a  prince,  you  shall  not 


ELOQUENCE. 


43 


fail  of  them.  In  the  mean  time,  my  lieutenant-genera, 
shall  be  in  my  stead,  than  whom  never  prince  commanded 
a  more  noble  or  worthy  subject.  Not  doubting  but  by 
your  concord  in  the  camp  and  valor  in  the  field,  and 
your  obedience  to  myself  and  my  general,  we  shall 
shortly  have  a  famous  victory  over  those  enemies  of  my 
God  and  of  my  kingdom.'  " 


ELOQUENCE   OF  THE  HEART. 

"  What  rhetoric  didst  thou  use 
To  gain  this  mighty  boon  ?"  —  ADDISOW. 

"  OLIVER  CROMWELL  was  one  day  engaged  in  a  warm 
argument  with  a  lady  upon  the  subject  of  oratory,  in 
which  she  maintained  that  eloquence  could  only  be 
acquired  by  those  who  made  it  their  study  in  early  life, 
and  their  practice  afterwards.  The  Lord  Protector,  on 
the  contrary,  maintained  that  there  was  no  eloquence 
but  that  which  sprang  from  the  heart;  since  when  that 
was  deeply  interested  in  the  attainment  of  any  object,  it 
never  failed  to  supply  a  fluency  and  richness  of  expres- 
sion which  would,  in  the  comparison,  render  vapid  the 
studied  speeches  of  the  most  celebrated  orators. 

"  This  argument  ended,  as  most  arguments  do,  in  the 
lady's  tenaciously  adhering  to  her  side  of  the  question, 
and  the  Protector's  saying,  '  he  had  no  doubt  he  should 
one  day  make  her  a  convert  to  his  opinion.' 

"  Some  days  after,  the  lady  was  thrown  into  a  state 
bordering  on  distraction,  by  the  unexpected  arrest  and 
imprisonment  of  her  husband,  who  was  conducted  to  the 
T;  wer  as  a  traitor  to  the  government. 

"  The  agonized  wife  flew  to  the  Lord  Protector,  rushed 
through  his  guards,  threw  herself  at  his  feet,  and  with 
37* 


438  ELOQUENCE. 

the   most  pathetic  eloquence  pleaded  for  the  life  and 
innocence  of  her  husband. 

"  Cromwell  maintained  a  severe  brow,  until  the  peti- 
tioner, overpowered  by  the  excess  of  her  feelings,  and 
the  energy  with  which  she  had  expressed  them,  paused. 
His  stern  countenance  then  relaxed  into  a  smile,  and 
extending  to  her  an  immediate  liberation  of  her  husband, 
he  said,  '  I  think  all  who  have  witnessed  this  scene  will 
vote  on  my  side  of  the  question,  in  the  dispute  between 
us  the  other  day,  that  the  eloquence  of  the  heart  alone 
has  power  to  save." 


PATRIOTISM. 


roLTJMNIA,   YALERIA,    AND   VERGILIA. —  FOLYCRITA. WIFE   OF    PY- 

THEUS. PHILOTIS. JOAN     OF    ARC. MARULLA. CATHAR1NA 

"  THE      HEROIC." SILESIAN     GIRL.  MRS.      COLBIOERNSEN.  — 

MADEMOISELLE    DE   LA    ROCHE FOUCAULT.  —  WOMEN   OF    SWITZER- 


"  There  is  a  land,  of  every  land  the  pride, 
Beloved  by  heaven  o'er  all  the  world  beside ; 
There  is  a  spot  of  earth  supremely  blest, 
A  dearer,  sweeter  spot  than  all  the  rest. 
Here  woman  reigns  ;  the  mother,  daughter,  wife 
Strews  with  fresh  flowers  the  narrow  way  of  life. 
Around  her  knees  domestic  duties  meet, 
And  fire-side  pleasures  gambol  at  her  feet. 
'  Where  shall  that  land ,  that  spot  of  earth,  be  found  ? ' 
Art  thou  a  man  ?  a  patriot  ?  —  look  around ; 
Oh,  thou  shalt  find,  howe'er  thy  footsteps  roam, 
That  land  thy  country,  and  that  spot  thy  home  !  " 

MONTGOMERY. 

"  PATRIOTISM,  or  the  love  of  one's  country,  is  one  of  the 
noblest  passions  that  can  warm  and  animate  the  human 
breast.  It  includes  all  the  limited  and  particular  affec- 
tions to  our  parents,  children,  friends,  neighbors,  fellow- 
citizens,  and  countrymen.  It  is  in  the  bosom  of  our  own 
species  that  we  first  learn  to  think,  to  act,  and  to  feel ; 
in  the  midst  of  them,  all  our  exertions  are  made ;  they 
call  forth  our  emulation,  our  courage,  and  all  that 
activity  of  character  which  is  the  source  of  our  happi- 
ness. Patriotism  is  an  extension  of  these  domestic  aflec 
tions,  and  ought  to  direct  and  limit  them  within  their 
proper  bounds,  and  never  let  them  encroach  on  those 
sacred  and  first  regards  which  we  owe  to  the  great  pub- 


440  PATRIOTISM. 

lie  to  which  we  belong,  whose  security  and  welfare  we 
are  bound,  by  the  most  sacred  ties,  to  promote  with  the 
utmost  ardor,  especially  in  times  of  public  trial." 


ROME    SAVED  BY  HER  WOMEN. 

"  If  not  for  love  of  me  be  given 
Thus  much,  then,  for  the  love  of  heaven, — 
Again  I  say  —  that  turban  tear 
From  off  thy  faithless  brow,  and  swear 
Thine  injured  country's  sons  to  spare."  —  LORD  BYROK. 

"  Ladies,  you  deserve 

To  have  a  temple  built  you :  all  the  swords 
In  Italy,  and  her  confederate  arms, 
Could  not  have  made  this  peace."  —  SHAKSFEAKE. 

VOLITMNIA,  the  mother  of  Coriolanus,  rendered  a  sig- 
nal service  to  her  country,  by  exerting  the  influence  she 
possessed  over  her  son's  mind  in  behalf  of  her  native 
city.  Plutarch  thus  relates  the  circumstance  :  — 

"  When  Caius  Marcius  Coriolanus  had,  in  unison  with 
the  Volscians,  fought  against  the  Romans,  and  subdued 
his  native  city,  the  Roman  women  were  dispersed  in  the 
several  temples,  but  the  greatest  part,  and  the  most  illus- 
trious of  the  matrons,  made  their  supplications  at  the 
nltar  of  Jupiter  Capitolinus.  Among  the  last  was 
Valeria,  sister  of  the  great  Publicola,  a  person  who  had 
lone  the  Romans  most  considerable  services,  both  in 
peace  and  war.  Publicola  had  been  dead  some  time, 
but  Valeria  still  lived  in  the  greatest  esteem,  for  her  life 
did  honor  to  her  high  birth.  This  lady,  discerning,  by 
some  impulse,  what  would  be  the  best  expedient,  rose 
and  called  upon  the  other  matrons  to  attend  her  to  the 
house  of  Volumnia,  the  mother  of  Coriolanus. 

"  When  she  entered,  and  found  her  sitting  with  her 
aaughter-in-law,  Yergilia,  and  with  tha  children  of  Corio- 


PATRIOTISM.  44  J 

lanus  in  her  lap,  she  approached  her,  with  her  female 
companions,  and  spoke  to  this  effect :  '  We  address  our- 
sehes  to  you,  Volumnia  and  Vergilia,  as  women  to 
women,  without  any  decree  of  the  senate,  or  order  of  the 
consuls.  But  our  God,  we  believe,  lending  a  mercifu1 
ear  to  our  prayers,  put  it  in  our  minds  to  apply  to  you, 
and  to  entreat  you  to  do  a  thing,  that  will  not  only  be 
salutary  to  us  and  the  other  citizens,  but  more  glorious 
for  you,  if  you  hearken  to  us,  than  the  reducing  their 
fathers  and  husbands  from  mortal  enmity  to  peace  and 
friendship  was  to  the  daughters  of  the  Sabines.  Come, 
then,  go  along  with  us  to  Coriolanus;  join  your  instances 
to  ours ;  and  give  a  true  and  honorable  testimony  to 
your  country,  that  though  she  has  received  the  greatest 
injuries  from  him,  yet  she  has  neither  done  nor  resolved 
anything  against  you  in  her  anger,  but  restores  you  safe 
into  his  hands,  though  perhaps  she  may  not  obtain  any 
better  terms  to  herself  on  that  account.'  When  Valeria 
had  thus  spoken,  the  rest  of  the  women  joined  in  her 
request.  Volumnia  gave  them  this  answer :  '  Besides 
the  share  which  we  have  in  the  general  calamity,  we 
are,  my  friends,  in  particular  very  unhappy,  since  Mar- 
cius  is  lost  to  us,  his  glory  obscured,  and  his  virtue 
gone ;  since  we  behold  him  surrounded  by  the  arms  of 
the  enemies  of  his  country,  not  as  their  prisoner,  but 
their  commander.  But  it  is  still  a  greater  misfortune  to 
us,  if  our  country  is  become  so  weak  as  to  have  need  to 
repose  her  hopes  upon  us ;  for  I  know  not  whether  ho 
will  have  any  regard  for  us,  since  he  has  had  none  for 
his  country,  which  he  used  to  prefer  to  his  mother,  to  his 
wife,  and  children.  Take  us,  however,  and  make  what 
use  of  us  you  please.  Lead  us  to  him :  if  we  can  dc 


442  PATRIOTISM. 

nothing  else,  we  can  expire  at  his  feet  in  supplicating 
for  Rome.' 

"  She  then  took  the  children  and  Vergilia  with  her, 
and  went,  with  the  other  matrons,  to  the  Volscian  camp ; 
Valeria  having  previously  given  the  consuls  notice  of 
their  design,  and  obtained  their  approbation,  and  that  of 
the  senate.  The  sight  of  these  ladies  produced,  even  in 
the  enemy,  compassion  and  reverential  silence.  Corio- 
lanus,  who  then  happened  to  be  seated  upon  the  tribunal 
with  his  principal  officers,  seeing  them  approach,  was 
greatly  agitated  and  surprised.  Nevertheless,  he  endeav- 
ored to  retain  his  wonted  sternness  and  inexorable 
temper,  though  he  perceived  that  his  wife  was  at  the 
head  of  them ;  but  unable  to  resist  the  emotions  of  affec- 
tion, he  could  not  suffer  them  to  address  him  as  he  sat  ; 
he  therefore  descended  from  the  tribunal,  and  ran  to 
meet  them.  First  he  embraced  his  mother  for  a  con- 
siderable time,  and  afterwards  his  wife  and  children, 
neither  refraining  from  tears,  nor  any  other  instance  of 
natural  tenderness.  When  he  had  sufficiently  indulged 
his  passion,  and  perceived  that  his  mother  wanted  to 
speak,  he  called  the  Volscian  counsellors  to  him,  and 
Volumnia  expressed  herself  to  this  purpose :  '  You  see, 
my  son,  by  my  attire  and  miserable  looks,  and  therefore 
I  may  spare  myself  the  trouble  of  declaring,  to  what 
condition  your  banishment  has  reduced  us.  Think  witv 
yourself,  whether  we  are  not  the  most  unhappy  of  women, 
when  fortune  has  changed  the  spectacle  that  should  have 
been  the  most  pleasing  in  the  world  into  the  most  dread- 
ful; when  Volumnia  beholds  her  son,  and  Vergilia  her 
husband,  encamped  in  a  hostile  manner  before  the  walls 
of  his  native  city ;  and  what  to  others  is  the  greatest 
consolation  under  misfortune  and  adversity,  I  mean 


PATRIOTISM.  443 

prayer  to  the  gods,  to  us  is  rendered  impracticable ;  for 
we  cannot,  at  the  same  time,  beg  victory  for  our  country, 
and  your  preservation;  your  wife  and  children  must 
either  see  their  country  perish,  or  you.'  Volumnia  con- 
cluded with  soliciting  a  truce  for  a  year,  that  in  that 
time  measures  might  be  taken  for  settling  a  solid  and 
lasting  peace.  Coriolanus  listened  to  his  mother  while 
she  went  on  with  her  speech,  without  saying  the  least 
'H'ord  to  her :  and  Volumnia,  seeing  him  stand  a  long 
time  mute  after  she  had  done  speaking,  proceeded  again, 
in  this  manner  :  '  Why  are  you  silent,  my  son  ?  Is  it  an 
hour  to  yield  everything  to  anger  and  resentment  ?  Does 
it  become  a  great  man  to  remember  the  injuries  done 
him,  and  would  it  not  equally  become  a  great  and  good 
man,  with  the  highest  regard  and  reverence,  to  keep  in 
mind  the  benefits  he  has  received  from  his  parents  ? 
Surely  you,  of  all  men,  should  take  care  to  be  grateful, 
who  have  suffered  so  extremely  by  ingratitude ;  and  yet, 
though  you  have  so  severely  punished  your  country,  you 
have  not  made  your  mother  the  least  return  for  her 
kindness.  The  most  sacred  ties,  both  of  nature  and 
religion,  without  any  other  constraint,  require  that  you 
should  indulge  me  in  this  just  and  reasonable  request; 
but  if  words  cannot  prevail,  this  only  resource  is  left.' 
So  saying,  she  threw  herself  at  his  feet,  together  with 
his  wife  and^phildren ;  upon  which,  Coriolanus,  crying 
out,  '  Oh,  my  mother,  what  is  it  you  have  done  ?'  raised 
her  from  the  ground,  and,  tenderly  pressing  her  hand, 
continued,  '  You  have  gained  a  victory  fortunate  for 
your  country,  but  ruinous  to  me.  I  go,  vanquished  by 
you  alone.'  Then,  after  a  short  conference  with  his 
mother  and  wife,  in  private,  he  sent  them  back  to  Rome, 
agreeably  to  their  desire  Next  morning,  he  drew  off  th« 


i PATRIOTISM. 

Volscians,  who,  though  not  all  of  the  same  sentiments 
concerning  what  had  passed,  did  not  presume  to  contra- 
dict his  orders,  though  they  followed  him  rather  out  of 
veneration  for  his  virtue  than  regard  to  his  authority. 
The  sense  of  the  dreadful  and  dangerous  circumstances 
which  the  Roman  people  had  been  in  by  reason  of  the 
war,  never  appeared  so  strong  as  when  they  were  de- 
livered from  it.  For  no  sooner  did  they  perceive  from 
the  walls  that  the  Volscians  were  drawing  off,  than  all 
the  temples  were  opened,  and  filled  with  persons  crowned 
with  garlands  and  offering  sacrifices  as  for  some  great 
victory.  But  in  nothing  was  the  public  joy  more  evident 
than  in  the  affectionate  regard  and  honor  which  both  the 
senate  and  the  people  paid  the  women,  whom  they  both 
considered  and  declared  the  means  of  their  preservation.^ 
Nevertheless,  when  the  senate  decreed  that  whatsoever 
they  thought  would  contribute  most  to  their  glory  and 
satisfaction,  the  consuls  should  take  care  to  see  it  done ; 
they  only  desired  that  a  temple  might  be  built  to  the 
Fortune  of  Women,  the  expense  of  which  they  offered 
to  defray  themselves,  requiring  the  commonwealth  to  be 
at  no  other  charge  than  that  of  sacrifices,  and  such  a 
solemn  service  as  was  suitable  to  the  majesty  of  the  gods. 
The  senate,  though  they  commended  their  generosity, 
ordered  the  temple  and  shrine  to  be  erected  at  the  public 
charge ;  but  the  women  contributed  their  money,  not- 
withstanding, and  with  it  provided  another  image  of  the 
goddess." 

*  "  It  was  decreed  that  an  encomium  of  those  matrons  should 
DC  3ngraveu  on  a  public  monument." 


PATRIOTISM.  44O 

PATRIOTISM   OF   POLYCRITA. 

"  Oh  !  make  her  a  grave  where  the  sun-beams  rest, 

When  they  promise  a  glorious  morrow ; 
They  '11  shine  o'er  her  sleep,  like  a  smile  from  the  west, 
From  her  own  loved  island  of  sorrow ! "  —  MOORE. 

POLYCRITA,  a  lady  of  the  island  of  Naxos,  rendered 
herself  conspicuous  by  her  patriotism. 

The  Naxians  were  at  war  with  the  Milesians,  and  the 
contest  had  been  for  some  time  kept  up  with  much  loss 
to  both  parties.  At  length  Diognetus,  one  of  the  allies 
of  the  Milesians,  who  had  the  command  of  a  strong  for- 
tification, which  was  well  provided  with  ammunition, 
succeeded  in  taking  great  spoils  from  the  Naxians,  and 
made  captive  a  number  of  their  women.  One  of  these, 
Polycrita,  possessed  so  many  attractions  in  the  eyes  of 
Diognetus,  that  he  first  fell  in  love  with,  and  afterwards 
married  her. 

A  festival  was  shortly  after  celebrated  in  the  Milesian 
camp,  when  the  soldiers  gave  themselves  up  entirely  to 
luxury  and  feasting.  Polycrita,  perceiving  this,  requested 
Diognetus  to  permit  her  to  send  some  of  their  cakes  to 
her  brethren ;  and  upon  his  acceding  to  her  wishes,  she 
thrust  into  one  of  them  a  piece  of  lead,  engraven  with 
writing,  and  desired  the  bearer  to  inform  her  relatives 
that  they  were  to  eat  in  private  what  she  had  sent  them. 
They  obeyed  her  injunctions,  and  soon  discovered  the 
plate  of  lead,  on  which  Polycrita  had  herself  written  a 
few  words,  advising  them  "  that  night  to  fall  upon  their 
enemies,  who,  by  reason  of  excess,  caused  by  their  feast- 
ing, were  overcome  with  wine,  and  therefore  in  a  care- 
less, insecure  condition."  They  immediately  informed 
iheir  officers  of  the  news  they  had  received,  when  prep- 
nrs  tion  for  attack  was  made  without  delay.  The  result 
28 


446  PATRIOTISM. 

justified  the  expectations  of  Polycrita:  in  the  ensuing 
engagement,  the  Naxians  came  off  victorious,  leaving 
many  of  their  enemies  slain  on  the  field.  Diognetus 
was  taken  prisoner,  but  his  life  was  spared  by  the 
entreaties  of  Polycrita. 

That  young  maiden,  on  returning  to  the  city  of 
Naxos,  was  met  at  the  gate  by  the  inhabitants,  bearing 
garlands,  who  testified  their  gratitude  by  loud  acclama- 
tions of  joy :  unable  to  bear  so  much  applause,  and  over- 
powered and  affected  to  an  extraordinary  degree  by  the 
unlooked-for  homage,  Polycrita  fell  down  and  expired. 
She  was  buried  on  the  spot,  and  her  tomb  designated 
from  that  time  the  "  Sepulchre  of  Envy,"  it  being 
believed  by  her  countrywomen  that  some  "  Envious 
Fortune  "  had  caused  the  death  of  Polycrita,  to  prevent 
her  attaining  the  completion  of  her  honors. 


INGENIOUS  APPEAL  OF  THE  QUEEN  OF  PYTHEUS. 

"  God  loves  from  whole  to  parts  ;  but  human  soul 
Must  rise  from  individual  to  mhole. 
Self-love  but  serves  the  virtuous  mind  to  wake, 
As  the  small  pebble  stirs  the  peaceful  lake  ; 
The  centre  moved,  a  circle  straight  succeeds ; 
Another  still,  and  still  another  spreads  ; 
Friend,  parent,  neighbor,  first  it  will  embrace ; 
His  country  next ;  and  next,  all  human  race."  —  POPE. 

PYTHEUS,  a  king  who  lived  at  the  time  of  Xerxes, 
having  by  accident  discovered  some  golden  mines  in  his 
dominions,  employed  nearly  all  his  subjects  in  digging  for 
the  ore  :  so  great,  indeed,  was  his  thirst  after  riches,  that 
he  required  them  to  work  continually  at  this  laborious 
employment,  till,  quite  exhausted,  many  of  them  expired 
with  excessive  fatigue.  During  a  temporary  absence  of 


PATRIOTISM.  447 

t.iis  inhuman  king,  the  wives  of  the  miners  repaired  tc 
the  palace,  and,  in  tears,  threw  themselves  at  the  feet 
oi  the  queen,  imploring  her  to  take  compassion  on  the 
distress  of  her  subjects,  and  exert  her  influence  with 
Pytheus  on  their  behalf.  The  queen  received  them  in 
the  most  gracious  manner,  and  having  comforted  them 
v/ith  promises  of  relief,  dismissed  them  with  the  hope  of 
a  speedy  change  in  the  unhappy  destiny  of  their  hus- 
bands. As  soon  as  they  were  gone,  she  sent  for  all  the 
gjldsmiths  in  whom  she  could  confide,  and  placing  them 
unc'er  a  temporary  confinement,  commanded  them  to 
make  up  golden  loaves,  and  all  sorts  of  confectionary  and 
fruits,  as  well  as  fish  and  meats  of  the  same  costly  mate- 
rial. Upon  the  return  of  Pytheus,  he  inquired  for  his 
repast ;  when  the  queen  caused  to  be  placed  before  him 
a  golden  table,  with  a  complete  course  in  imitation  of 
nature,  yet  not  a  single  thing  which  could  be  eaten. 
The  king  was  for  some  moments  lost  in  admiration  at 
the  splendor  of  the  scene,  and  beauty,  as  well  as  skill,  of 
the  workmanship  ;  but,  having  satiated  his  eyes  a  while 
with  the  spectacle,  again  demanded  food :  more  dishes 
were  then  brought  as  before,  and  his  repeated  inquiries 
procured  nothing  but  a  change  of  the  same  unsatisfactory 
repast.  At  length,  much  provoked,  Pytheus  turned  to 
the  queen,  and  demanded  her  motive  for  treating  him 
thus,  saying,  in  an  angry  tone,  that  he  was  hungry.  She 
answered  him,  firmly,  in  the  following  manner:  "Thou 
hast  made  none  other  provision  for  us;  every  skilful 
science  and  art  being  laid  aside,  no  man  works  in 
husbandry,  but  neglecting  sowing,  planting,  and  tilling 
the  ground,  we  delve,  and  search  for  useless  thirds, 
killing  ourselves  and  our  subjects."  Pytheus  was  so 
much  moved  by  this  energetic  appeal  of  his  wife,  that 


448  PATRIOTISM. 

from  that  time  he  employed  only  a  fifth  part  of  his 
subjects  in  the  mines,  and  considerably  ameliorated  their 
condition. 

The  premature  death  of  a  favorite  son,  at  a  subse- 
quent period,  so  greatly  affected  Pytheus,  that,  refusing 
all  consolation,  he  retired  into  a  sepulchre,  which  he  had 
built  for  himself,  and,  resigning  all  the  affairs  of  govern- 
ment into  the  hands  of  his  wife,  he  remained  there  until 
his  death,  being  daily  supplied  with  provisions,  and  net 
even  admitting  the  queen  to  his  presence. 

During  this  period,  the  queen  took  an  admirable  care 
of  the  state,  and,  reforming  all  abuses,  acted  upon  every 
occasion  as  the  real  benefactor  of  her  people. 

SUCCESSFUL  STRATAGEM  OF   PHILOTIS. 
"  Rome  again  is  free  !  " — AKENSIDE. 

PHILOTIS,  a  servant-maid  at  Rome,  was  the  happy 
means  of  saving  her  country  from  destruction. 

After  the  Gauls  had  besieged  Rome,  the  Fidenates 
assembled  an  army  under  the  command  of  Lucius  Posthu- 
mius,  and  marched  against  the  capital,  demanding  all  the 
wives  and  daughters  in  the  city,  as  the  conditions  of 
peace.  This  extraordinary  command  greatly  astonished 
the  senators,  and,  upon  their  refusing  to  comply  with  it, 
Philotis  advised  them  to  send  all  their  female  slaves, 
disguised  in  the  attire  of  the  Roman  matrons,  and  offered 
to  march  herself  at  their  head.  This  was  readily  agreed 
to,  and  put  into  effect.  When  the  evening  came,  and  the 
Fidenates,  after  feasting  late,  were  quite  intoxicated  and 
had  fallen  asleep,  Philotis  lighted  a  torch  as  a  signal 
for  her  countrymen  to  attack  the  enemy.  Everything 
succeeded  to  her  wishes ;  and,  the  Fidenates  being  con« 


PATRIOTISM.  449 

querei.  the  senate  rewarded  the  fidelity  of  the  female 
slaves,  by  permitting  them,  from  that  time,  to  wear  the 
dress  of  the  Roman  matrons. 


JOAN  OF  ARC  SAVES  HER  COUNTRY. 

"  '  I  have  wrought 

My  soul  up  to  the  business  of  this  hour, 
That  it  may  stir  your  noble  spirits,  prompt 
Such  glorious  deeds  that  ages  yet  unborn 
Shall  Mess  my  fate.'  " 

"  Thus  the  Maid 

Redeemed  her  country.     Ever  may  the  All- Just 
Give  to  the  arms  of  Freedom  such  success !  "  —  SOUTHEY. 

JOAN  OF  ARC,  a  simple  and  uneducated  shepherdess, 
at  the  early  age  of  nineteen,  by  her  enthusiastic  courage 
and  patriotism,  was  the  immediate  cause  of  that  sudden 
revolution  in  the  affairs  of  France,  which  terminated  in 
the  establishment  of  Charles  VII.  on  the  throne  of  his 
ancestors,  and  the  final  expulsion  of  the  English  from 
that  kingdom. 

"  The  town  of  Orleans  was  the  only  place  in  France 
which  remained  in  the  possession  of  the  Dauphin  at  the 
time  when  this  heroine  made  her  appearance,  and  that 
was  closely  besieged  by  the  English,  while  Charles  had 
not  the  smallest  hope  of  being  able  to  procure  an  army 
to  raise  the  siege. 

"  Benevolent  in  her  disposition,  gentle  and  inoffensive 
in  her  manners,  and,  above  all,  dutiful  to  her  parents, 
Joan  had,  from  her  earliest  infancy,  been  ardently 
attached  to  her  country.  Her  piety,  her  enthusiasm, 
being  thus  united,  in  her  young  and  romantic  mind,  with 
an  all-absorbing  feeling  of  patriotism,  she  was  led  to 
believe  herself  the  humble  instrument,  in  the  hands  of 
38* 


150  PATRIOTISM. 

Heaven,  by  whom  France's  interest  and  France's  glory 
were  to  be  redeemed. 

"  Under  this  impression,  the  maiden  quitted  her  native 
village  and  lowly  occupations,  and  having  obtained  safe 
conduct  to  Vaucouleurs,  informed  the  governor  '  that  the 
kingdom  did  not  belong  to  the  Dauphin,  but  to  God 
Almighty ;  but  that,  nevertheless,  the  Lord  was  willing 
that  he  should  become  king,  and  receive  the  realm  as  a 
deposit ; '  adding,  that  in  spite  of  his  enemies,  he  should 
become  king,  and  that  she  would  herself  conduct  him  to 
Rheims  to  be  crowned.  'It  is  absolutely  necessary  that 
I  should  see  the  Dauphin,'  continued  Joan;  'were  it 
necessary  that  I  should  repair  to  him  on  my  knees,  I 
would  go.'  The  governor,  interested  by  her  youth  and 
enthusiasm,  acceded  to  her  petition. 

"  The  maid  appeared  before  Charles,  dressed  as  a  war- 
rior, and  informed  him  that  she  had  two  things  to  accom- 
plish on  the  part  of  the  King  of  Heaven  :  first,  to  cause 
the  siege  of  Orleans  to  be  raised;  and  secondly,  to 
conduct  the  king  to  Rheims,  there  to  be  anointed  and 
crowned.  ^Charles  was  much  struck  with  the  enterprise 
so  courageously  proposed,  and  the  interview  having 
raised  in  him  an  interest  in  behalf  of  this  heroine,  he 
appointed  an  assembly  of  divines,  to  inquire  into  her 
mission  and  character.  On  their  pronouncing  the  former 
to  be  undoubted  and  supernatural,  and  the  latter  to  have 
been  virtuous  and  innocent,  her  services  were  publicly 
accepted.  She  was  armed  cap-a-pie,  mounted  on  horse- 
back, and  shown,  in  that  martial  habiliment,  to  the  whole 
peoph.  The  king  then  invested  her  with  the  supreme 
command  of  his  army,  ordering  that  nothing  should  be 
done  without  her  directions.  The  maid  then  asked  foi 
i  sword,  which  had  been  more  than  a  century  in  the 


PATRIOTISM.  451 

tomb  of  a  knight,  behind  the  Altar  of  St.  Catherine,  at 
Fierbois ;  asserting-  that  she  had  a  knowledge  of  it  by 
revelation,  and  that  it  was  only  with  this  fatal  sword  she 
could  extirpate  the  English.  She  had  a  banner  made 
after  her  own  device,  her  helmet  was  surmounted  with 
feathers,  and  she  rode  on  a  white  steed,  which  she 
managed  with  the  utmost  skill  and  dexterity,  having 
acquired  the  art  of  horsemanship  in  her  early  days. 
Thus  equipped,  Joan  was  an  object  of  general  admi- 
ration ;  her  firm  enthusiasm  inspired  universal  confi- 
dence in  her  divine  mission,  men-at-arms  flocked  around 
her,  and  the  oldest  captains,  nay,  even  princes,  felt  dis- 
posed to  march  under  her  ensign. 

"  On  the  29th  of  April,  1429,  Joan  of  Arc  appeared 
before  Orleans,  with  twelve  thousand  men.  She  wrote  a 
letter  to  the  Duke  of  Bedford,  then  Regent  of  France, 
warning  him  to  give  up  that  kingdom  to  its  rightful  heir ; 
but  the  English  were  so  enraged  at  seeing  a  woman  sent 
to  fight  them,  that  they  put  the  heralds  in  prison.  The 
Count  de  Dunois,  who  commanded  in  Orleans,  made  a 
sally  with  all  his  garrison,  in  order  to  facilitate  the  entry 
of  provisions  ;  and  the  French,  persuaded  that  Joan  was 
sent  from  Heaven  to  their  assistance,  resuming  fresh 
courage,  fought  with  so  much  vigor,  that  she  and  her 
convoy  entered  the  town. 

"  The  English  were  secretly  struck  with  the  strong 
persuasion  in  the  heavenly  mission  of  Joan  .which  pre- 
vailed around  them,  and  began  to  feel  their  courage 
daunted.  They  sent  back  one  of  the  heralds,  of  whom 
the  maid  demanded,  'What  says  Talbot?'  (Sir  John 
Talbot;)  and  when  he  informed  her  that  he,  as  well  as 
all  his  countrymen,  spared  no  abuse  in  speaking  of  her, 
and  declared  if  they  caught  her  they  would  burn  her ; 


452  PATRIOTISM. 

*  Go  back  again,'  said  she,  '  and  doubt  not  but  thou  wilt 
bring  back  with  thee  thy  companion ;  and  tell  Talbot, 
that  ff  he  will  arm  himself,  I  will  do  the  same,  and  let 
him  come  before  the  walls  of  the  town,  and  if  he  can 
ta^e  me,  he  may  burn  me ;  and  if  I  discomfit  him,  let 
him  raise  the  siege,  and  return  unto  his  own  native 
country.' 

"  Soon  after  her  arrival  at  Orleans,  she  made  an  attack 
upon  fort  St.  Loup,  which  she  carried  sword  in  hand,  as 
well  as  the  bulwarks  of  St.  John,  and  of  the  Augustins. 
In  one  of  the  assaults  on  the  English,  she  received  a 
dangerous  wound  in  the  neck ;  and  as  a  large  quantity 
of  blood  flowed  from  it,  her  followers  began  to  fear  for 
her  life  ;  but  she,  to  reanimate  them,  said,  '  It  was  not 
blood,  but  glory,  that  flowed  from  her  wound.' 

"  The  siege  of  Orleans  was  raised  on  the  8th  of  May, 
and  Joan  carried  the  news  to  the  king,  herself,  entreating 
him  to  come  and  be  crowned  at  Kheims,  then  in  posses- 
sion of  the  English.  The  siege  of  Jargeau  was  next 
undertaken ;  when,  after  lying  eight  days  before  the 
town,  which  was  most  vigorously  defended,  Joan  of  Arc 
went  into  the  ditch  with  her  standard  in  her  hand,  at 
that  part  where  the  English  made  the  most  vigorous 
defence ;  she  was  perceived,  and  a  heavy  stone  thrown 
upon  her,  which  bent  her  to  the  ground ;  notwithstanding 
which,  she  soon  got  up,  and  cried  aloud  to  her  compan- 
ions, '  Frenchmen,  mount  boldly,  and  enter  the  town ; 
you  will  find  no  longer  any  resistance.'  Thus  was  the 
town  won. 

"  She  next  took  possession  of  Auxerre,  Troyes,  and 
Chalons,  thus  opening  for  the  king  the  road  to  Rheims, 
which  city  flung  open  its  gates  as  soon  as  he  appeared 
before  it ;  and  the  next  day,  the  17th  of  July,  Charles 


455 

was  crowned,  the  Maid  of  Orleans  herself  assisting  at 
the  ceremony  in  her  armor,  with  her  standard  in  her 
hand. 

"  As  a  mark  of  his  gratitude,  Charles  had  a  medal 
struck  in  honor  of  the  heroine  to  whom  he^owed  so 
much  :  he  also  ennobled  her  family,  and  the  town  of 
Domremy,  where  Joan  was  born,  was  exempted  from  all 
taxes,  aids,  and  subsidies  forever. 

"  After  the  coronation,  the  Maid  of  Orleans  declared 
that  her  mission  was  now  accomplished ;  and  requested 
permission  to  return  once  more  to  her  parents,  and  to 
those  occupations  which  became  her  sex ;  but  her  pres- 
ence inspired  too  much  confidence,  and  had  been  attended 
with  too  great  success,  to  be  dispensed  with.  Dunois, 
sensible  of  her  influence  over  the  army,  exhorted  her  to 
persevere  till  the  final  expulsion  of  the  English.  She 
therefore  accompanied  the  king  to  Crepi,  to  Senlis,  and 
afterwards  to  Paris.  Here  she  displayed  her  wonted 
courage,  but  received  a  severe  wound.  In  the  siege  of 
Compeigne,  in  1430,  she  made  a  sally,  at  the  head  of  a 
hundred  men,  over  the  bridge,  and  twice  repulsed  the 
besiegers  ;  but  seeing  a  very  strong  reinforcement  coming 
against  her,  she  began  to  retreat ;  and  although  it  was 
late,  and  she  and  her  troops  were  surrounded,  yet,  after 
performing  prodigies  of  courage,  she  disengaged  her 
company,  who  fortunately  reentered  the  town.  The 
heroic  maid  remained  at  the  rear,  to  facilitate  their 
retreat,  and  when  she  wished  to  enter,  the  gates  were 
shut;  she  immediately  turned  round  to  her  enemies, 
and  charged  them  with  a  courage"  worthy  of  a  better 
fate.  She  seemed  not  to  expect  any  assistance,  and 
suspected  some  treachery,  for,  when  she  made  the  sally, 
she  exclaimed,  '  I  am  betrayed  ! '  During  the  time  she 


454  PATRIOTISM. 

•was  defending  herself,  her  horse  stumbled,  and  she  fell 
This  obliged  her  to  surrender  herself  to  Lionel  Vasture 
of  Vendome,  who  gave  her  up  to  John  of  Luxemburg. 
This  nobleman,  forgetting  the  respect  a  brave  man  should 
show  to  courage,  basely  sold  her  to  the  English  for  ten 
thousand  livres.  From  the  moment  she  was  a  prisoner, 
this  heroine  was  forgotten.  The  king  made  no  attempts 
to  redeem  her ;  and  although  at  the  time  he  had  many 
English  prisoners  of  the  highest  rank,  he  did  not  offer 
one  of  them  in  exchange  for  her.  This  neglect  of  the 
unfortunate  girl,  to  whom  he  owed  the  very  crown  he 
wore,  will  be  an  eternal  blot  on  the  memory  of  the 
ingrate  Charles  VII. 

"  On  Joan  being  made  a  prisoner,  the  English  indulged 
in  as  great  rejoicings  as  if  they  had  conquered  the  whole 
kingdom.  The  Duke  of  Bedford  thought  it  proper  to 
disgrace  her,  in  order  to  reanimate  the  courage  of  his 
countrymen.  Joan  was  condemned  at  Rouen  by  Cauchon, 
Bishop  of  Beauvais,  and  five  other  French  bishops,  to 
be  burnt  alive  for  magic  and  heresy.  During  her  con- 
finement in  prison,  she  leaped  from  the  top  of  the  tower 
of  Beaurevoir,  in  hopes  of  escape  :  but  was  retaken,  and 
her  cruel  sentence  put  into  execution  on  the  24th  of  May, 
1431.  She  was  quite  undaunted  at  the  sight  of  the 
stake  and  scaffold,  which  she  mounted  as  boldly  as  she 
had  formerly  done  the  breach  at  an  assault ;  and  although 
her  face  was  covered  with  tears,  she  said,  'God  be 
blessed.' 

"  Thus  was  this  admirable  heroine  cruelly  delivered 
over  in  her  youth  to  the  flames,  and  expiated  by  the 
punishment  of  the  fire  the  signal  sen-ices  which  she 
had  rendered  to  her  prince  and  native  country.  Her 
execution  was  as  disgraceful  to  the  English,  as  the  cold 


PATRIOTISM.  455 

with  whic.i  she  was  treated  in  her  misfortunes 
was  to  the  French  monarch." 


COURAGE   OF  MARULLA. 

"  Marriage  is  a  matter  of  more  worth 
Than  to  be  dealt  in  by  attorneyship." 

SHAKSFEARH. 

"  THE  Turks  having  attacked  the  capital  of  the  Island 
of  Lemnos,  in  the  time  of  Mahomet  the  Second,  it 
was  defended  with  great  vigor,  even  the  women  assisting 
in  defence  of  their  honor  and  religion. 

"  Wounded  by  the  stroke  that  had  killed  her  father, 
Marulla  descended  from  the  wall,  and  rushed  amidst  the 
enemy  with  all  the  vigor  that  enthusiasm  and  despair 
could  inspire ;  she  was  seconded  by  the  garrison,  who 
caught  her  ardor ;  and  the  next  day,  when  the  Venetian 
general  arrived  with  his  fleet,  to  succor  the  people, 
instead  of  a  battle,  he  beheld  a  triumph.  The  people 
in  their  best  apparel,  and  the  magistrates  in  their  robes 
of  ceremony,  went  to  meet  him,  conducting  their  fair 
deliverer,  whose  extreme  youth  rendered  her  doubly 
interesting.  Charmed  with  her  heroism,  the  general 
commanded  each  soldier  to  make  her  a  present ;  promised 
that  she  should  be  adopted  by  the  Republic,  and  offered 
her  in  marriage  any  of  the  captains  who  accompanied 
him.  Marulla  replied,  '  It  was  not  by  chance  that  she 
^ould  choose  a  husband;  for  the  v'rtues  of  a  camp  would 
nofr  make  a  good  master  of  a  family,  and  that  the  haz- 
ard would  be  too  great.'  " 


156  PATRIOTISM. 

CATHERINA,  SURNAMED  "THE    HEROIC." 

"  By  how  much  unexpected,  by  so  much 
We  must  awake  endeavor  for  defence  ; 
For  courage  mounteth  with  occasion." 

SHAKSPEARE. 

"  As  the  Emperor  Charles  the  Fifth,  on  his  return, 
in  the  year  1547,  from  the  battle  of  Muhlberg  to  his 
camp  in  Swabia,  passed  through  Thuringia,  Catherina, 
Countess  Dowager  of  Schwartzburgh,  born  Princess  of 
Henneburg,  obtained  of  him  a  letter  of  safeguard,  that 
her  subjects  might  have  nothing  to  suffer  from  the 
Spanish  army  on  its  march  through  her  territories  :  in 
return  for  which,  she  bound  herself  to  allow  the  Spanish 
troops  that  were  transported  to  Rudolstadt,  on  the  Saal- 
brucke,  to  supply  themselves  with  bread,  beer,  and  other 
provisions,  at  a  reasonable  price,  in  that  place.  At  the 
same  time,  she  took  the  precaution  to  have  the  bridge, 
which  stood  close  to  the  town,  demolished  in  all  haste, 
and  reconstructed  over  the  river  at  a  considerable  dis- 
tance, that  the  too  great  proximity  of  the  city  might  be 
no  temptation  to  her  rapacious  guests.  The  inhabitants, 
too,  of  all  the  places  through  which  the  army  was  to 
pass,  were  informed  that  they  might  send  the  chief  of 
their  valuables  to  the  castle  of  Rudolstadt. 

"  In  the  mean  time,  the  Spanish  general,  attended  by 
Prince  Henry  of  Brunswick  and  his  sons,  approached 
•Jbe  city,  and  invited  themselves,  by  a  messenger  whom 
they  despatched  before,  to  take  their  morning's  repast 
with  the  Countess  of  Schwartzburgh.  So  modest  a 
request,  made  at  the  head  of  an  army,  was  not  to  be 
rejected  ;  the  answer  returned  was  that  they  should  be 
kindly  supplied  with  what  the  house  afforded  :  that  his 
excellency  might  come,  and  be  assured  of  a  welcome 


PATRIOTISM.  457 

reception.  However,  Catharina  did  not  neglect,  at  the 
same  time,  to  remind  the  Spanish  general  of  the  safe- 
guard, and  to  urge  home  to  him  the  conscientious  observ- 
ance of  it. 

"A  friendly  reception  and  a  well-furnished  table 
welcomed  the  arrival  of  Duke  Alva  at  the  castle.  He 
was  obliged  to  confess  that  the  Thuringian  ladies  had 
excellent  notions  of  cookery,  and  did  honor  to  the  laws 
of  hospitality,  But  scarcely  had  they  taken  their  seats, 
when  a  messenger,  out  of  breath,  called  the  countess 
from  the  hall :  his  tidings  informed  her,  that  the  Spanish 
soldiers  had  used  violence  in  some  villages  on  the  way, 
and  had  driven  off  the  cattle  be'^uging  to  the  peasants. 
Catharina  was  a  true  mother  to  her  people ;  whatever 
the  poorest  of  her  subjects  unjustly  suffered  wounded 
her  to  the  very  quick.  Full  of  indignation  at  this  breach 
of  faith,  yet  not  forsaken  by  her  presence  of  mind,  she 
ordered  her  whole  retinue  to  arm  themselves  immedi- 
ately in  private,  and  to  bolt  and  bar  all  the  gates  of  the 
eastle  ;  which  done,  she  returned  to  the  hall,  and  rejoined 
the  princes,  who  were  still  at  table.  Here  she  com- 
plained to  them,  in  the  most  moving  terms,  of  the  usage 
she  had  met  with,  and  how  badly  the  imperial  word  was 
kept.  They  told  her,  laughing,  that  this  was  the  cus- 
tom in  war,  and  that  such  trifling  disorders  of  soldiers,  in 
marching  through  a  place,  were  not  to  be  minded.  '  That 
we  shall  presently  ^e,'  replied  she,  stoutly ;  '  my  poor 
subjects  must  have  their  own  again,  or '  (raising  her 
voice  in  a  threatening  tone)  'princes'  blood  for  oxen's 
blood.'  With  this  emphatical  declaration,  she  gave  a 
signal,  on  which  the  room  was,  in  a  few  moments,  filled 
with  armed  men ;  who,  sword  in  hand,  yet  with  great 
reverence,  planting  themselves  behind  the  chairs  of  the 
39 


458  PATRIOTISM. 

princes,  took  place  of  the  waiters.  On  the  entrance  of 
so  many  fierce-looking  fellows,  Duke  Alva  changed 
color,  and  they  all  gazed  at  one  another  in  silent  terror. 
Cut  off  from  the  army,  surrounded  by  a  resolute  body 
of  men,  what  could  they  do  ?  The  duke  instantly  de- 
spatched an  order  to  the  army,  to  restore  the  cattle,  with- 
out delay,  to  the  persons  from  whom  they  had  been 
stolen.  On  the  return  of  the  courier,  with  a  certificate 
that  all  damages  had  been  made  good,  the  Countess  of 
Schwartzburgh  politely  thanked  her  guests  for  the  honor 
they  had  done  her  castle ;  and  they,  in  return,  very  joy- 
fully took  their  leave. 

"It    was   in    honor  of  Ais   action,  that   Catherina 
received  the  surname  of  '  the  Heroic.'  " 


GENEROUS   SACRIFICE   OF  A  SILESIAN  GIRL. 

"  That  light  we  see  is  burning  in  my  hall ; 
How  far  that  little  candle  throws  his  beams ! 
So  shines  a  good  deed  in  a  naughty  world." 

SHAKSPEARE. 

'  DURING  the  Seven  Years'  War,  the  exertions  of  the 
Prussians,  at  some  critical  periods,  to  support  the  sinking 
fortunes  of  their  enterprising  monarch,  were  of  a  nature 
truly  astonishing;  but  they  were  far  outdone  by  the 
public  sacrifices  which  were  voluntarily  made  by  individ- 
uals to  resist  the  invasion  of  the  French,  in  1813. 

"  An  anecdote  of  a  Silesian  girl  is  recorded,  which 
serves  in  a  striking  manner  to  show  the  general  feeling 
which  pervaded  the  country.  Whilst  her  neighbors  and 
&mily  were  contributing  in  different  ways  to  the 
expenses  of  the  war,  she  was  for  some  time  in  tha 
greatest  distress  at  her  inability  to  manifest  her  patriot- 


PATRIOTISM. 

ism,  as  she  possessed  nothing  which  she  could  dispose  of 
for  that  purpose.  At  length  the  idea  struck  her  that  ha 
hair,  which  was  of  great  beauty,  and  the  pride  of  hei 
parents,  might  be  of  some  value ;  and  she  accordingly 
set  off  one  morning  privately  for  Breslaw,  and  disposed 
of  her  beautiful  tresses  for  a  couple  of  dollars.  The 
hair-dresser,  however,  with  whom  she  had  negotiated  the 
bargain,  being  touched  with  the  girl's  conduct,  reserved 
his  purchase  for  the  manufacture  of  bracelets  and  other 
ornaments ;  and,  as  the  story  became  public,  he  in  the 
end  sold  so  many,  that  he  was  enabled,  by  this 
maiden's  locks  alone,  to  subscribe  a  hundred  dollars  to 
the  exigencies  of  the  state." 


PATRIOTISM  OP  MRS.  COLBIOERNSEN. 

"  Deare  countrey !     O  how  dearely  deare 
Ought  thy  remembraunce  and  perpetuall  baud 
Be  to  thy  foster  childe,  that  from  thy  hand 
Did  commun  breath  and  nouriture  receave ! 
How  brutish  is  it  not  to  understand 
How  much  to  her  we  owe,  that  all  us  gave ; 
That  gave  unto  us  all  whatever  good  we  have  !  " 

SPENSER. 

"  WHEN  Charles  the  Twelfth  invaded  Norway,  in  the 
year  1716,  the  main  body  of  his  army  advanced  towards 
Christiana,  whence  a  detachment  was  sent  to  destroy  the 
silver  works  at  Konsberg.  On  this  expedition,  a  party 
of  eight  hundred  horsemen,  commanded  by  Colonel 
Loeven,  passed  through  a  narrow  defile  in  the  Harestue- 
wood,  and  quartered  for  the  night  at  Norderhoug,  in  the 
neighborhood  of  which  a  small  detachment  of  Norwe 
gian  dragoons  had  been  stationed,  to  watch  the  motions 
of  the  enemy.  The  Swedish  commander,  who  put  up 
«t  the  parsonage  soon  after  his  arrival,  received  informa* 


160  PATRIOTISM. 

tion  that  the  Norwegians  were  only  at  the  distance  of 
three  miles,  and  altogether  ignorant  of  his  arr.-val.  Mrs. 
Anna  Colbioernsen,  the  wife  of  the  clergyman,  who  was 
confined  at  that  time  to  his  bed,  happened  to  overhear  a 
consultation  among  her  guests,  in  which  it  was  resolved 
to  attack  the  Norwegians  by  break  of  day,  and  then  to 
march  against  Konsberg.  She  immediately  determined 
to  apprise  her  countrymen  of  their  danger.  In  the  mean 
time,  the  greatest  attention  was  paid  to  her  guests ;  and 
while  she  appeared  wholly  occupied  in  providing  for 
their  entertainment,  she  improved  her  information.  She 
displayed  equal  apparent  benevolence  towards  the  com- 
forts of  the  private  soldiers ;  and,  on  pretext  of  wanting 
other  necessaries  to  complete  their  entertainment,  she 
despatched  a  servant,  as  it  were,  to  procure  them. 

"  The  Swedish  colonel,  in  the  mean  time,  inquired  of 
Mrs.  Colbioernsen  the  road  to  Stein,  where  he  intended 
to  station  his  outposts,  and  was  completely  deceived  by 
her  replies.  He  ordered  his  horses  to  be  kept  in  readi- 
ness at  the  door;  but  she  contrived  to  make  the  grooms 
intoxicated,  upon  which  she  put  the  horses  in  the  stable, 
and  locked  the  door.  Her  next  object  was,  under  the 
plea  of  compassion,  to  obtain  permission  of  the  colonel 
to  light  a  fire  in  the  yard,  to  comfort  his  men.  This  fire 
she  insensibly  increased  to  such  a  degree,  that  it  served 
as  a  Deacon  to  guide  the  Norwegians  to  the  spot;  for 
she  had  informed  her  countrymen  that  a  fire  would  be 
the  signal  for  them  to  advance.  Everything  succeeded 
to  her  utmost  wishes ;  and  her  address  and  intrepidity 
were  rewarded  by  the  arrival  of  the  Norwegians  at  her 
house,  without  discovery.  They  took  the  Swedish 
colonel  prisoner,  and  either  cut  to  pieces  or  put  to  flight 
the  whole  of  his  party ;  upon  which,  they  sat  down  to 


PATRIOTISM.  461 

trie  entertainment,  which   Mrs.  Colbioernsen  had  pro- 
vided for  their  enemies. 

"  The  next  morning  she  went  out,  in  company  with 
another  female,  to  view  the  field  of  battle.  The 
Swedes,  who  had  fled  during  the  night,  in  the  mean 
time  rallied,  and  being  still  superior  in  numbers  to  the 
Norwegians,  they  resolved  to  attack  them;  but,  being 
ignorant  of  the  force  of  the  enemy,  they  sent  out  a 
reconnoitering  party ;  who,  falling  in  with  Mrs.  Col- 
bioernsen, the  corporal  rode  up  to  her,  and  pointing  his 
carbine  to  her  breast,  demanded  instant  information  as  to 
the  position  and  numbers  of  the  Norwegians.  Her  com- 
panion fainted  away;  but  Mrs.  Colbioernsen  boldly 
asked,  '  Is  it  the  order  of  your  king  to  shoot  old 
women  ? '  The  corporal,  abashed,  removed  his  carbine, 
but  persisted  in  his  first  question.  '  As  to  their  num- 
bers,' she  replied,  '  that  you  may  easily  find  out,  as  they 
are  at  this  moment  mustering  behind  the  church,  in  order 
to  pursue  you.  More  I  cannot  tell  you,  not  having 
counted  them  ;  but  this  I  know,  they  are  as  numerous  as 
the  bees  in  a  hive.'  Relying  upon  this  intelligence,  the 
party  returned  to  their  countrymen,  who  fled  in  all  direc- 
tions ;  and  such  was  their  confusion  and  disorder,  that 
many  were  taken  by  the  natives,  and  many  lost  in  the 
forests." 

MADEMOISELLE  DE  LA  ROCHEFOUCAULT. 

"  O  gentlemen,  the  time  of  life  is  short : 
To  spend  that  shortness  basely,  were  too  long, 
Though  life  did  ride  upon  a  dial's  point, 
Still  ending  at  the  arrival  of  an  hour." 

SHAKSFEARE. 

MADEiMoisELLE  DE  LA  ROCHEFOUCAULT  was  but  eighteen 
years  of  age  at  the  time  when  the  news  of  the  barbarous 
39* 


462  PATRIOTISM. 

murder  of  Louis  XVI.  arrived  in  Brittany,  the  place  of 
her  nativity,  and  scene  in  which  she  had  passed  hei 
early  years ;  her  conduct  during  the  events  which  suc- 
ceeded that  melancholy  catastrophe  is  therefore  still 
more  astonishing.  The  following  account  is  given  of 
this  heroine :  — 

Among  the  first  Vendean  chiefs  who  reared  the  stand- 
ard of  royalty,  was  La  Rochefoucault  de  Beaulieu,  one  of 
her  near  relations.  He  was  a  member  of  the  council 
directing  the  operations  of  the  royalists,  as  well  as  a 
military  commander  leading  them  on  to  battle ;  and  in 
both  capacities  merited  that  commendation  which  the 
liberal  and  just  never  refuse  those  engaged  in  a  good 
cause,  though  their  efforts  are  finally  not  crowned  with 
success.  Hardly  had  he  collected  his  peasants  and 
neighbors,  and  armed  them  with  poles,  pitchforks,  and 
scythes,  when  his  amiable  relative  appeared  before  him, 
in  an  amazon  dress,  with  a  sword  by  her  side,  and  two 
pistols  in  her  girdle  :  "  Friend,"  said  she,  "  my  principles 
are  known  to  you,  as  well  as  my  sex ;  you  shall  soon  be 
convinced  that  the  latter  does  not  make  me  unworthy  to 
combat  and  die  for  the  former.  Do  not  oppose  my 
entering  into  the  campaign  with  you.  I  may  perhaps 
find  occasion  to  show  the  republicans  that  our  country- 
women, if  not  so  valiant,  are  at  least  as  religious  and 
loyal,  as  the  men.  Permit  me  to  present  these  embroi- 
dered standards  to  our  brave  comrades.  The  CROSS,  the 
CROWN,  and  the  SCEPTRE,  announce  both  our  hope  and 
principles.  The  motto  '  For  our  GOD  and  for  our  KING,' 
proclaims  that  we  are  not  guided  by  earthly  considera- 
tions alone,  but  confide  in  a  blessed  hereafter,  should 
the  Almighty,  from  motives  to  which  we  must  submit 
with  resignation,  refuse  us  here  a  reward  to  our  meritori- 


PATRIOTISM.  463 

ous  undertakings.  The  infidels  and  republicans,  unfor- 
tunate wretches!  cannot  say  the  same." 

Such  a  demand  could  not  be  refused,  and  the  military 
achievements  of  Mademoiselle  La  Rochefoucault  were 
surpassed  only  by  her  social  virtues.  She  never  missed 
an  opportunity  to  be  foremost  in  battle,  and  the  last  to 
retreat:  as  terrible  during  the  contest,  as  generous  and 
humane  when  it  was  over.  She  made  no  difference 
between  foes  and  friends,  or,  rather,  every  sufferer  was 
her  friend ;  thus  all  equally  shared  her  tender  care  and 
kind  attention.  Frequently,  after  repeated  daily  engage- 
ments for  weeks  together,  hardly  allowing  herself  any 
time  for  rest,  she  employed  those  moments  her  com- 
panions gave  to  repose  in  visiting  and  consoling  those 
maimed  in  war,  and  perishing  from  disease.  Notwith- 
standing the  entreaties  of  her  relative,  she  continued  this 
train  of  life,  which,  had  she  not  possessed  a  strong  con- 
stitution, might  have  ruined  a  health  so  precious  to  all 
who  knew  her.  No  wonder,  therefore,  if  she  was  the 
idol  as  well  as  the  consoler  of  the  royalist  troops,  and 
that  they  fought  under  her  with  an  enthusiasm  which 
astonished,  in  foiling  and  crushing  the  enthusiastic  repub- 
licans themselves. 

The  noble  self-denial,  and  liberal  performances  of 
Mademoiselle  La  Rochefoucault  towards  routed  and 
wounded  republicans,  were  the  more  praiseworthy,  when 
it  is  considered  that  those  repu-  licans  were  the  most 
unrelenting  foes ;  that  they  spared  neither  age  nor  sex ; 
that  they  never  gave  quarter,  and  often  annihilated  with 
the  same  blow  three  or  four  generations,  defenceless  and 
disarmed. 

Sometimes  repulsed,  often  conquering,  Mademoiselle 
La  Rochefoucault  always  fought  undaunted,  no  more 


464  PATRIOTISM. 

elevated  in  prosperity  than  depressed  in  adversity.  Al 
the  terrible  affair  at  Chollet,  where  the  number  and  bar- 
barities of  the  republicans  occasioned  some  confusion  in 
the  ranks  of  the  Christian  and  royal  army,  she  three 
times  rallied  her  troops,  and  headed  them,  to  return  to 
the  charge ;  a  fourth  time  repulsed  by  enemies  twenty 
times  more  numerous  than  her  friends,  and  encompassed 
by  dismay  and  death,  she  still  rallied  them  again. 
Observing,  however,  the  desperate  situation  in  which  she 
was  involved,  she  ascended  a  small  elevation,  and  thus 
addressed  about  seven  hundred  of  her  brave  followers  :  — 
"  Companions  of  misfortune  and  of  sentiments !  although 
our  position  is  desperate,  let  us  not  give  ourselves  up  to 
despair.  The  brave  only  dies  once,  while  the  coward 
dies  a  thousand  times  before  he  expires.  Our  enemies  are 
numerous  indeed  —  our  dangers  are  imminent  indeed; 
but  with  the  assistance  of  that  all-disposing  and  all- 
governing  Power,  which  knows  the  justice  of  our  cause, 
the  cypress  of  defeat  may  easily  be  transformed  into 
laurels  of  victory.  But  we  must  now  do  our  duty,  and 
instead  of  turning  our  backs,  face  and  oppose  our  irrecon- 
cilable pursuers,  with  a  firm  determination  to  vanquish  or 
to  perish : 

'  Le  lache  fuit  en  vain ;  la  mort  vole  a  sa  fuite ; 
C'est  en  la  defiant,  que  le  brave  1'evite.' 

In  a  retreat  our  destruction  is  inevitable ;  by  advanc- 
ing, we  at  least  stand  the  chance  of  victory.  Yes,  a 
vigorous  assault  on  the  lines  of  those  marching  with  so 
much  confidence  against  us,  is  our  only  preservation. 

"  If  you  retreat,  whither  will  you  fly  ?  where  do  you 
expect  to  find  a  place  of  refuge  or  of  safety  ?  at  your 
houses,  at  your  dwellings?  the  smoke  you  see  darken 
the  firmament  everywhere  around  you  tells  you  that 


PATRIOTISM.  465 

they  are  no  more,  —  that  they  are  reduced  to  ashes.  Do 
you  hope  to  escape  by  crossing  the  river  Loire?  jjpur 
atrocious  republican  foes  have  already  made  it  the  scaf- 
fold and  the  grave  of  thousands  of  our  unfortunate 
partizans. 

"  Fathers,  do  you  expect  again  to  caress  your  offspring? 
husbands,  do  you  once  more  hope  to  embrace  your  wives? 
children,  do  you  think  again  to  salute  your  parents  ? 
Know,  then,  my  beloved  and  pitiable  friends,  that  every- 
thing dear,  affectionate,  or  consoling  to  you  has  disap- 
peared, and  is  swallowed  up  in  this  same  river,  and  that 
you  are  childless,  widowers,  and  orphans.  The  republi- 
can monsters  have  torn  to  pieces  all  your  ties  of  consan- 
guinity, as  well  as  of  society.  They  have  made  you 
domestic  as  well  as  social  outlaws. 

"  No,  no  !  comrades  and  fellow-sufferers  !  all  hope,  all 
retreat,  is  cut  off;  certain  death,  inevitable  ruin,  unavoid- 
able wretchedness,  are  behind  us,  while  perhaps  victory 
and  glory  are  waiting  before  us.  Come,  come ;  let  us 
march  !  follow  me,  Christians  and  royalists  !  Remember, 
remember,  that  your  God  died  on  the  cross,  your  king 
on  the  scaffold,  and  that  his  assassins  are  those  of  our 
friends  and  relations !  Follow  me,  and  before  the  end 
of  the  day  we  shall  either  sing  Te  Deum  upon  earth,  or 
hymns  with  saints  in  heaven ;  we  shall  either  be  tri- 
umphant or  blessed ! " 

Mademoiselle  La  Rochefoucault  then  led  again  her 
brave  and  loyal  companions  towards  the  enemy  —  but 
she  did  not  return  ! 

The  day  before  this  decisive  engagement,  she  had 
written  to  a  female  friend  at  Paris,  with  a  sad  presenti- 
ment, and  her  letter  concluded  with  these  lines  :  "  God 
knows  that  I  do  not  fear  death ;  I  was  prepared  for  it 


466  PATRIOTISM. 

from  the  day  1  determined  to  combat  for  the  altar  and 
for  Ifie  throne,  and  I  have  since  daily  braved  ir.  May  it 
only  be  of  some  service  to  my  king,  and  to  my  fellow- 
subjects,  in  restoring  the  one  to  his  supremacy,  and  the 
other  to  their  too  long  lost  happiness  and  tranquillity! 
may  it  only  in  some  manner  lessen  the  stain,  and  palliate 
the  disgrace,  thrown  on  my  family  name  by  the  La 
Rochefoucaults  who  have  conspired  and  betrayed  !*  may 
the  Bourbons  remember  that  all  La  Rochefoucaults  were 
not  traitors,  but  worthy  their  ancestors,  and  to  have  them 
for  sovereigns !  But  I  hear  the  trumpet  sounding  alarm, 
and  I  must  bid  my  tender  friend  a  long,  I  fear  too  long, 
adieu : 

"  Que  sur  ma  tombe  solitaire 

On  pour  jamais  je  vais  dormir, 

On  ecrive,  en  beau  caractere, 
'  Elle  savait  vivre  —  Elle  sut  mourir ! '  " 


FEMALE  MARTYRS  OF  SWITZERLAND. 

"  Princess  of  mountain,  flood,  and  fell ! 
Helvetia  !  to  thy  crown  —  farewell ! 
Weep!  for  thy  patriot's  hopes  are  o'er, 
Weep !  for  thy  freedom  is  no  more  ;  » 

For  those  who  live,  and  those  who  sleep 
In  death's  cold  chain  of  bondage,  weep ! " 

J.  H.  WIFFEN. 

AMONG  the  many  Swiss  heroines  whose  names  are 
still  in  the  mouth  of  every  friend  of  liberty  and  of  honor 
in  the  Helvetian  Alps,  is  that  of  Martha  Glar,  a  daugh 
ter,  grand-daughter,  wife,  sister,  mother,  and  grand- 
mother, of  shepherds.  In  those  valleys,  among  those 
mountains,  on  the  banks  of  those  lakes,  where  genera- 

*  Mademoiselle  La  Rochefoucault  here  probably  alluded  to 
the  duke  of  that  name,  who,  an  accomplice  of  La  Fay  cue,  was 
murdered  in  1792. 


PATRIOTISM.  461" 

tioru-  had  glided  away  undisturbed  for  ages,  the  rumor 
of  French  threats,  the  report  of  Gallic  perfidy,  and  the 
relations  of  revolutionary  ferocity,  suddenly  penetrated, 
in  the  latter  part  of  1797,  and  in  the  beginning  of  179?, 
not  to  terrify  trembling  cowards,  but  to  excite  enthusiasm 
among  a  brave  and  loyal  people,  acquainted  with  their 
own  worth  and  with  the  justice  of  their  cause,  and  there- 
fore thinking  themselves  invincible.  Alas !  they  were 
not  aware  that  against  dastardly  assassins  and  armed 
slaves,  backed  by  artificial  support,  by  a  numerous  artil- 
lery experienced  in  tactics  and  adroit  in  manoeuvres, 
natural  bravery  and  innate  heroism  often  avail  but  little. 

Martha  Glar,  when,  in  February,  1798,  her  husband 
had  marched,  with  all  other  farmers,  peasants,  and  shep- 
herds, against  an  approaching  enemy,  convoked  and  col- 
lected around  her  all  her  countrywomen  and  girls  of  the 
same  parish  with  her.  This  meeting  took  place  in  the 
churchyard,  on  the  last  Sunday  of  February,  half  an 
hour  before  divine  service  was  to  be  performed.  She 
addressed  them  thus  :  — 

"  Daughters  of  William  Tell !  the  time  is  now  at 
hand  when  you  may  prove  yourselves  worthy  descend- 
ants of  that*  hero,  of  that  father,  of  that  deliverer  of 
his  country. 

"  At  the  time  that  our  country  is  in  peace  with  all 
nations,  friends  with  all  people,  respecting  the  usages  of 
everybody,  encroaching  on  the  claims  of  none,  those 
detestable  Frenchmen,  with  whose  vicinity  Providence 
has  punished  us  for  our  sins,  —  those  scourges  of  man- 
kind, have  dared  to  threaten  us  with  the  same  fetters 
which  degrade  themselves,  and  hope  to  impose  upon  us 
the  same  shameful  yoke  which  has  made  them  degen- 
erate, and  reduced  them  to  a  level  with  the  most  fero- 


468  PATRIOTISM. 

cious  of  beasts  of  prey.  Our  fathers,  our  husbands,  oui 
brothers,  our  sons,  and  our  friends,  are  already  advanc- 
ing to  oppose  them.  Suppose  they  are  defeated  by 
supt  rior  numbers ;  suppose  the  God  of  Victory  is  as 
blind  as  unjust,  as  indifferent,  as  Fortune,  the  sole 
divinry  of  French  infidels  and  blasphemers;  will  you 
stoop  to  receive  consolation  from,  and  the  embraces  of, 
their  assassins  ?  Will  you  suffer  those  criminals  to 
chain  you  to  their  bondage  —  to  their  enormities  ? 
Will  you  serve  as  mistresses  or  as  servants  those  mon- 
sters who,  in  such  an  unprovoked,  barbarous  manner, 
have  made  you  widows,  orphans,  and  mourners  ?  The 
expression  of  your  countenances  beams  with  patriotic 
and  becoming  indignation.  No,  never !  rather  death 
—  a  thousand  deaths  ! 

"  My  dearest  friends,  if  this  is  your  sincere  determina- 
tion, we  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  arm  and  to  march, 
and  immediately  to  join  in  the  ranks,  combat  by  the  side, 
or  perish  in  our  country's  cause  by  the  corpses,  of  those 
so  justly  dear  to  us. 

"  But  some  of  you  may  perhaps  think  that  those  who 
have  butchered  our  relatives  and  friends,  our  defenders, 
our  protectors,  and  our  fellow-citizens,  may  perhaps  have 
some  regard  for  our  sex,  and  suffer  us  at  least  to  moan 
and  to  cry  undisturbed  and  in  peace.  Can  any  one  of 
you  be  so  blind,  so  weak,  or  so  ignorant,  as  to  believe 
that  it  is  possible  that  slaves  can  confer  freedom,  and 
guilty  wretches  evince  any  just,  generous,  nay,  even 
human  feelings  ? 

"  Remember !  I  beseech  you  remember,  that  wher- 
ever revolutionary  Frenchmen  have  hitherto  penetrated, 
crime  has  always  accompanied  them,  infamy  and  oppres« 


PATRIOTISM.  469 

eion  continued  with  them,  and  want,  distress  and  misery, 
remained  behind  them. 

"  But  suppose,  (what  there  is  not  the  most  distant 
probability  of  happening,)  that  they  should  behave  better 
to  us  than  they  have  done  to  our  German  and  Italian 
neighbors ;  suppose  that  they  do  not  pollute  our  temples, 
plunder  our  property,  violate  our  sisters,  seduce  the  chas- 
tity of  our  daughters,  and  pervert  the  morality  of  our 
sons ;  suppose  they  do  not  make  us  abandoned  and  prof- 
ligate, as  well  as  ruined  and  wretched ;  are  we,  we  who 
are  the  descendants  of  freemen,  to  live  and  to  see  our 
country  enchained,  and  our  posterity  enslaved  ?  Are  we 
to  expose  ourselves  to  be  hunted  by  the  bayonets  of  the 
invaders  from  th'e  reeking  rubbish  of  our  dwellings,  from 
the  tombs  of  our  forefathers,  from  the  altars  of  our  God, 
to  the  bed  of  the  regicide  who  oppresses  us,  or  of  the 
plunderer  who  ruins  us?  are  we  to  serve,  like  beasts  of 
burden,  to  the  projects  of  universal  overthrow  of  the 
great  and  ambitious  criminals  ?  or  are  we  to  decorate  as 
trophies  the  triumphal  chariot  or  entry  of  a  vile  and  cor- 
rupted tyrant?  I  think  that  I  feel  the  bones  of  our 
ancestors  rattling  with  horror  under  me,  in  their  graves 
in  this  sacred  place!  I  imagine  I  hear  them  call  to  us 
loudly  from  their  blessed  abodes :  '  Daughters  of  free- 
men!  die,  or  bequeath  to  your  children  the  happiness 
and  liberty  you  inherited  from  your  fathers!'  Yes! 
yes  !  I  believe  I  see  the  heavenly  spirit  of  William  Tell 
descend  and  inspire  us  to  perform  valiantly  what  we  owe 
to  our  country,  to  our  families,  to  our  cause,  and  to  our- 
selves." ("Let  us  arm,  and  let  us  march!"  resounded 
from  all  parts.)  "  I  rejoice,"  continued  Martha  Glar 
"  in  observing  and  hearing  your  noble  determination, 
and  your  liberal  sentiments.  Ages  to  come  will  record 
40 


470  PATRIOTISM. 

a  patriotism  on  which  I  most  sincerely  compliment  you. 
I  cannot,  however,  present  you  either  with  embroidered 
standards,  with  decorated  helmets,  or  with  glittering 
arms ;  but  in  the  day  of  battle  do  not  lose  sight  of  Martha 
Glar,  her  daughters,  and  her  grand-daughters;  they  will 
always  be  found  in  the  way  of  honor  and  glory;  let 
them  serve  you  for  a  rallying  point.  Should  victory  not 
crown  our  efforts,  we  solemnly  swear  not  to  survive  our 
defeat;  and  this  my  address  to  you,  dearest  country- 
women, will  then  be  our  last  and  eternal  adieu,  in  the 
firm  conviction  that  we  shall  one  day  meet  again,  to 
separate  no  more.  The  patriot's  place  in  heaven  is 
next  to  that  of  the  saint,  and  the  Creator  of  the  universe 
smiles  equally  on  both. 

"  But  no !  let  us  lay  aside  all  gloomy  ideas,  all  doleful 
presentiment :  let  us  have  more  confidence  in  all-govern- 
ing Providence.  Let  us  now  follow  our  worthy  pastor, 
whom  I  see  advancing  towards  our  church,  and  with  him 
implore  the  blessing  of  the  Almighty  on  our  undertak- 
ings, on  our  patriotic  oath,  —  To  CONQUER  OR  TO  DIE, 

TO  LIVE  OR  TO  PERISH  WITH  THE  FREEDOM  AND  INDEPEN- 
DENCE OF  OUR  DEAR  COUNTRY." 

Martha  Glar,  after  achieving  prodigies  of  valor  at  the 
battle  of  Frauenbrun,  on' the  3d  of  March,  1798,  was,  at 
the  age  of  sixty-four,  slain,  together  with  two  daughters, 
and  three  grand-daughters,  of  whom  the  youngest  was 
scarcely  ten  years  old,  by  the  side  of  her  father,  husband, 
brother,  and  two  sons,  who  were  all  likewise  killed.  Of 
the  two  hundred  and  sixty  women  whom  her  patriotism 
had  roused,  one  hundred  and  eighty  perished,  and  the 
remainder  were  carried  wounded  or  mutilated  from  the 
field  of  battle 


University  of  California 
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